


Three Parts Dead

by LolaBleu



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, Post-Insurgent, fourtris - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 107,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolaBleu/pseuds/LolaBleu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kisses my lips and then each of the four birds tattooed under my collarbone, lingering a little longer on the newest one; the one closest to my heart; the one that represents him. Post-Insurgent/Tris' fear of intimacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

**_To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead. - Bertrand Russell_ **

* * *

 

Antiseptic. Blood. Sweat.

That's what I smell as I sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair next to Christina. There's a constant murmur of voices around us, and if I close my eyes I can trick myself into believing I'm back in Amity, outside picking apples and listening to the wind rustle the leaves around me. But when I inhale my nose is singed by the fetid stench of humanity around me and I remember we're in Dauntless, in the infirmary, surrounded by the walking wounded.

There were casualties enough after storming Erudite's headquarters, but the fight that broke out afterwards between the factionless and everyone else was even bloodier, not least of which because they had all the guns. But it was enough to force a stalemate. When we'd parted ways with Evelyn for the last time only a few things had been settled.

The Erudite and traitor Dauntless couldn't be trusted, on that we agreed. The Erudite were confined to their compound, guarded by the factionless and the loyal Dauntless. The only thing they were allowed to do was researching and producing medicines and agricultural additives. The traitor Dauntless were shipped off to Amity for the time being to help with food production, also under the joint guardianship of the loyal Dauntless and factionless, and probably subject to large doses of their peace serum.

I suppose I'm lucky that I'm here by choice, or really that I'm here at all. I could be dead. It's no secret that Evelyn despises me; that the only reason she let me walk out of Erudite headquarters was because of Tobias; that if she had her way I wouldn't be locked in a cell like my brother, I'd be dead. But I'm not. I could be alone too, but I'm not. I know I don't deserve Christina's friendship, and it's that more than anything that has me sitting next to her, feeling self-conscious as we wait.

A harassed looking woman in nurses scrubs calls us back with a wave. Christina follows her without hesitation, but I can't help but feel uncomfortable with the whole thing. By the time the three of us are closeted away from the crowd in the waiting room I know why: I'm ashamed. Somewhere deep inside me is the small Abnegation girl, and sometimes she can be a little judgemental despite her best intentions.

* * *

The control room is still in a state of disarray. I carefully pick my way over and around the wires and pieces and computers that litter the floor, making my way to the back where I could see the blue glow of computer monitors casting Tobias shaped shadows.

He looks older now. There's lines in his face and bags under his eyes that weren't there even a few weeks ago. He doesn't look at me as I sit down next to him, but he does take my hand in his, and after everything we've been through that small act is greeting and affirmation in one.

"How did it go today?" He asks as he reaches for the cup of coffee and sandwich I brought him since he was too busy to have dinner with everyone else.

"Okay, Christina had to teach them to shoot though." I still can't handle a gun without panicking.

There was no government anymore, and there weren't supposed to be factions either, but when the dust settled the loyal Dauntless returned to the Pit accompanied by about half the remaining Abnegation and all of the Erudite defectors. There's safety in numbers, and Christina and I were teaching them to fight. It was the price they paid for staying here.

"It will get better."

I hope he's right.

"Anything I can do to help?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah," he reaches for a marker and a pad of paper covered in strings of letters and numbers, "each disk I hand you, mark it according to the list."

"Why?"

"Data burn."

"That's sufficiently cryptic. Care to explain?"

"There's that Erudite curiosity."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I mutter.

And even though I know he's tired - exhausted mentally as well as physically - he turns and smiles at me. "It's not. Do you really want to know about this stuff?" He waves his hand around, motioning to the racks of servers and banks of screens.

"Yeah, I do, actually." If I keep distracting myself I can keep reality from crashing down on me. Right now that hydroponics book Caleb was so enthusiastic about sounds pretty great.

"How much do you know about computers?"

"No much." I answer honestly.

"Okay, every computer terminal in the Dauntless compound only has enough RAM to run the operating system. When you log in with your username and password what you're actually doing is accessing our servers, which is where everything is stored. Email, any files you save, and a history of what you did while logged into that terminal is stored there. Most people's files aren't encrypted, and as an administrator I can access them."

It's nice to see Tobias like this; it reminds me of that morning in Marcus' living room, the morning after we escaped from Erudite. His eyes are bright and curious and even if I don't particularly appreciate the way computers work, I can appreciate the way the intellectual puzzle in front of him lightens the burden he's been carrying around for weeks.

"But those files don't concern me. I mean, I wrote a program that searched them, flagged anything with key terms, but the only people who knew what was going on with the Erudite was Max and Eric and the other leaders. I told you before the war that I'd hacked their files, remember?" "Yeah." "Okay, so, now that I've hacked the files and unencrypted them I'm saving them onto disks."

"Why?"

"A couple of reasons. For one I want to know what they told the Erudite. For another though, we know now that these servers - along with the servers of the other factions - are linked to the Erudite computer system."

"They don't have a system anymore."

"Supposedly."

Six months ago I would have said he was paranoid. Now though...

"But even if they don't I don't want anyone else accessing our information. Once I save the data I want I'm going to disconnect the cables that connect us to the rest of the city-wide system."

"So why are you removing the data at all? I mean if they won't be connected to the bigger system we should be safe, right?"

"Yes, we should."

"But?"

"But there's the possibility that cutting us off will trigger a program that burns all the data anyway." He reaches across me, turning on another monitor thats screen is filled with lines of code. "I don't know what that is, but I know what it isn't. I also know how it got into our system, and that's replicated itself onto all our servers and terminals."

Tobias' brow furrows, and I can practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. "I also know it hasn't done anything yet; it's just there, waiting, and that worries me. Even if it doesn't do anything when I disconnect us I've written a program that will corrupt all the data on our servers, totally wipe them. Once that's done I'll set up a new closed system."

"You're brilliant, you know that, right?"

He grimaces, shaking his head. "No, I'm not. If I was as brilliant as you think I would have realized Evelyn isn't much better than Marcus."

I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything. Things have been better between us, but there are still a lot of things we don't talk about. This is one of them.

He clears his throat. "So... where were you today? I didn't see you at lunch."

"Oh... umm... I, uh... went to the Infirmary with Christina."

"Everything okay? Is your shoulder still bothering you?"

I chew on my lip unsure of how to tell him why I was there; if I even want to. My silence doesn't go unnoticed.

"What is it?"

I can feel the blush making my cheeks burn. "Christina and I went to get birth control." I mutter, looking down at my lap, afraid to look anywhere else.

He doesn't say anything for a long time, and when he does his voice is cautious. "I don't know what to say to that, Tris."

"You don't have to say anything." I take a deep breath. "Christina just didn't want to go alone, and I thought... well, I thought it was a good idea for when we eventually... when we-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain it to me. I think it's smart, you know? With the way everything is right now," he shakes his head, "kids are a bad idea for anyone."

I manage an awkward smile. We still haven't had sex; the closest we've even gotten to it was that night in Amity that feels like a lifetime ago. But we will one day, I hope, and he's right about kids being a bad idea with the chaos surrounding us.

"Who's Christina-," he starts and then stops himself abruptly.

"What?"

"Nothing. None of my business."

"Uriah." I answer his unspoken question.

"They got over Will and Marlene fast." He says dryly.

"It's not like that." I snap.

"Then what's it like?"

"They're hurting," I say before I can stop myself. "Being together lets them forget about the pain for a little while. Is it really that different from you working in here from sunup to sundown and being so exhausted you're asleep by the time your head hits your pillow every night? Or all the people who drink until they're passed out across the tables in the cafeteria? We're all just looking for a way to forget everything we've been through, even if it's only temporary. This is their way; it's not for us to judge."

But we do, both of us, just a little because we're only human.

And there's a part of me that knows it's all my fault. There was - is - so much tragedy around us, but I could have saved Will and Marlene; I could have saved Christina and Uriah from the pain and grief of their loss. We lapse into silence, him tapping away at the keyboard and handing me a disk to scribble on every few minutes. I try to ignore the guilt I feel, and focus only on the task at hand.

A few hours later there's a stack of disks between us. Tobias rubs at his eyes and stretches hugely when he finally stands up. "Watch the screen and tell me if anything happens." He says as he disappears behind the rack of servers.

I hear him shuffling around, cursing to himself as he does whatever it is that he's going. "Anything?"

The screens in front of me look the same as they did a minute before. "Nope."

"How about now?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing, as in 'now there's nothing there', or nothing as in 'no change'."

I roll my eyes. "No change."

"Okay." He says as comes to sit next to me again, dusting his hands off before tapping away at the keyboard. "Here we go." He slips another disk into the computer in front of him, and there's a smile on his face.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Medical records. Are they kept on the servers too?"

"Yeah, but the infirmary keeps a paper copy of everything just in case the system goes down."

I feel like smacking myself for my stupidity. Of course they do. I had to fill out pages and pages of papers when I was there earlier.

I watch as Tobias unleashes digital armageddon with a few keystrokes. He looks satisfied.

"How long is this going to take?"

"Hours, but by the time everyone everyone wakes up in the morning everything will be gone."

"Is that why you're doing it in the middle of the night?" It has to be close to midnight by now, but the control room is windowless, perpetual night, so it's hard to tell time.

"Yes. I definitely don't want anyone to know what I'm doing until it's too late."

"Who knows about this?"

"Me, you, Tori, and Harrison are the only ones." Once he's satisfied the program is working the way it's supposed to he carefully picks up the disks he made in one hand and takes my hand with his other. "Come on, let's get some sleep. I have another long day tomorrow."

He locks the door behind us; he has the only key now. As we walk down the hall I try not to look at the spot where my father died, but it pulls my gaze morbidly. Someone's cleaned up the blood and the bright clean spot contrasts so sharply with the dingy carpet around it I almost think the blood would be better.

Before I can dwell on it too much we're in the elevator; five minutes later we're walking through the door of Tobias' apartment. Space is at a premium now, so when we came back I moved in with him. There's only two visible changes in the room: a bigger bed, and my soap next to his in the shower. I like it.

I like the ritual we have before we go to bed too. He kisses my lips and then each of the four birds tattooed under my collarbone, lingering a little longer on the newest one; the one closest to my heart; the one that represents him.

"I love you." They're three simple words, but I hear so much more in them than that in the fierceness of his voice, and the tightening of his hands where they're cuffed around my hips. We both know this peace we're living in is temporary at best. There's war simmering just below the surface and anything could break the fragile tension and sink us back into it. We almost lost each other, and it's still a threat. Maybe not from my stupidity or his anymore, but there's too much unsettled, too much out of our control to think of a future beyond tomorrow.

"I love you too." I tighten my hold on him, pulling his lips back to mine, and once they are I feel like I'm melting. It makes me want him. It makes me want to pull his shirt off and mine so I can feel the press of his flesh against me. It makes me want to push the world away with him the same way Christina and Uriah do. And as much as I try to tell myself that's not the best reason to have sex with someone, it's getting harder to ignore.

He pulls away, trying to stifle a yawn and failing completely. "Sorry. If I say 'it's not you, it's me' will you believe me?"

I kiss him on the cheek chastely. "Sleep."

"You too." He mumbles and pulls me against him. And with his body pressed against mine, and his arm looped around my middle I suddenly realize how tired I am. "Tris?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you gone in your fear landscape since we got back?"

"No. Why?" I mumble, fighting to stay awake.

"I was just wondering if it changed like mine did. I should have told you to go through it before I wiped all the simulation data."

It makes sense that he'd wonder that, considering the reason for my trip to the infirmary today, and I'd tell him so, but I'm too far gone.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm not exactly sure at what point things went from Tobias and I sleepily repositioning oursevles against each other after the alarm went off to steal an extra ten minutes in bed to something... not that.

Probably when he ran his hand up my leg, fingers curved in just enough to burn a trail up the inside of my thigh before tightening around my hip. If not then, then definitely when he pulled me on top of him.

Our lips are hungry and demanding, and it's better than when it's soft and sweet because we're not afraid of each other, not afraid to be honest about how we feel or what we want. His touch feels electric where his hand is splayed across my back, a tickling tingle that flows from his fingertips to my skin lighting up every cell he touches.

And then the alarm beeps again and ruins everything. I groan in disappointment as he shifts away, slapping at it until silence engulfs us again. Soon enough his arms are back around me, but it's different than what it was a minute ago. Now it's tender, remorseful.

He presses a kiss to the soft spot between my neck and shoulder. "We have to get up." But his arms don't loosen where they're looped around me.

I sigh. I know he's right. I know it's selfish to linger when there's so much to be done. That doesn't make it any easier though. "I know," I mumble against his skin, mirroring his actions. I'm tempted to not let go, but I do. His hands fall away as I slip off, perching on the edge of the bed as he gets up.

"Be careful today."

"I'm going to Amity, I'm sure that will be fraught with danger." I snicker.

"Everything's dangerous right now, Tris." He says as he walks over to the dresser, pulling out clothes. "And don't get in any fights while you're there. I shudder to think of what you'll do if you're subjected to their peace serum again."

My cheeks burn at the memory. "I still don't know why I have to be the one go."

"Yes, you do." He stands in front of me and I press into his palm when his hand cups my cheek. He tilts my face up so I have to look at him. "We need to know what's going on there. I trust you."

"Does Tori?"

He doesn't say anything because we both know the answer. She doesn't. When I got Tobias' raven tattooed she wouldn't do it. Bud was the one who inked it into my flesh and it felt strange to have someone else do it. It felt strange to be touched like that by a man who wasn't Tobias. I wouldn't have done it without him next to me, holding my hand and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles the same way I'd seen my parents do the few times I saw them show affection in public.

"I do."

"I know."

* * *

"I let you pluck my eyebrows, Christina, wasn't that enough torture?"

"You're representing Dauntless. You need to look your best."

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope." She chirps, her lips popping over the 'p'.

I turn to face her, dutifully closing my eyes so she can apply eyeliner, and then opening them for mascara. "Do you really need to carry that stuff around in your pockets all the time? It's like you're a terrorist, ready to unleash makeovers on unsuspecting passersby." I grumble.

She ignores me. "Much better. You know you really should get some makeup of your own."

"Why should I when I have you around to paint me up like a doll?" I smirk at her.

"Ready to go, Tris?" Uriah asks as he walks up, rifle slung over his back.

"You have no idea."

I see him and Christina exchange a look as I get up, but I pretend not to notice. A few minutes later we're meeting Zeke next to the train tracks. I can see a pair of handguns in shoulder holsters under his jacket.

There's a crowd of a dozen other Dauntless waiting for the train to take them out to the fence and then walk to Amity.  _Safety in numbers_ , I remind myself. It seemed smartest to travel with them as they went out to Amity to relieve the Dauntless guards there. We'll be coming back with a group of Amity delivering food.

The tracks start vibrating just as we reach the crowd, and as one we start jogging, then jumping into the cars as they pass. Uriah and Zeke seat themselves on either side of me, and it annoys me a little. They're here because Tori doesn't trust me and Tobias worries, probably that I'll do something stupid. I try not to think about that, instead distracting myself with watching the city as it whips by.

"So what's Amity like?" Uriah shouts over the wind as the train rattles along the tracks.

"Okay, I guess. You might have to give up the gun though. We had to turn ours over the last time we were there. Things might have changed." I shrug. "I guess we'll find out."

"That why you have a knife?"

"Something like that." I say noncommittally. I reach down, fingering the knife I have strapped to my thigh. It's certainly not a pocketknife, which should make Tobias happy. I doubt I'll use it, but I'd rather have it and not need it than vice-versa.

The gate is now guarded by a mix of Dauntless and factionless, and like they were on the streets of Abnegation the night before the attack on Erudite there's a clear divide between them. I don't recognize any of them, but Zeke waves to a black-haired girl with a colorful tattoo decorating her chest above her shirt.

We walk from the gate to Amity, and it's nice. The sun is out, but there's a cool breeze that keeps it from getting too hot. Winter will be here soon. It's easy to forget on a day like this the first time I made this journey. As I walk I try not to think of Caleb locked in a cell somewhere; dead, maybe, I wouldn't know.

My parents would have said that I should forgive him, that even though his actions were bad, his intentions were good. But I no longer have parents because of the things he did. I endured weeks of abuse because of the things he did. And I hate him for it.

It's not the burning, raging hate I had for him when I was being used as a lab rat. I wish it was. I know I'll never forgive him, that this anger will never go away, but now that it's not so fresh there's a part of me that misses the brother I thought I had.

"Tris," Uriah calls me out of my reverie, "do you know where we need to go?" He nods towards a cluster of buildings in the distance.

"Yeah, I know where we're going."

"Where's the dining hall?" Zeke asks.

"That big building on the left, why?"

"Thought I might have lunch and hang out with the Dauntless coming off duty while you talk to Johanna." His voice is too forced to be honest, and he nods slightly in response to my eyebrow raised questioningly. Apparently he's got his own little mission while we're here.

The apple orchard is a rainbow of autumnal colors now, and there are guards walking around with guns slung across their backs like Uriah. I can only assume that is one of the conditions the Dauntless and factionless imposed on Amity for their non-involvement in the war. It gives the place a sinister air it didn't have before.

"It smells weird here." Uriah scrunches up his nose. "Like rotting food."

"Compost."

"What?"

"Compost. It's one of the things they use to fertilize the ground. It's made from leftover food and leaves and things like that, I think."

"It smells weird."

"Don't worry we won't be here long." I tease as we make our way between the greenhouses.

I turn into the courtyard surrounding Johanna's office and stop so abruptly Uriah runs right into me. Edward it sitting outside the door to her office, rifle leaned up against the wall next to him as he smokes a cigarette. Evelyn must be inside; she doesn't go anywhere without her guard dog.

"Private party, factionless only."

I stand for a moment weighing my options. I could politely wait outside until Johanna and Evelyn finish their meeting. I could. But I won't.

"Technically we're all factionless now." I say and walk past him. Uriah's only a step behind me and I can feel the tension radiating off him.

Evelyn turns in her chair, facing me as I walk in. Her eyes are cold and appraising as they rake over me. "Beatrice." Her voice is condescending.

"Evelyn."

"It would probably be foolishly optimistic of me to think that you're here because your faction exiled you."

" _Evelyn_." Johanna says warningly. Her warning carries no weight however, not anymore. She can't force us to like or respect each other with threats of serums and banishment.

"I must say I'm surprised Tobias still trusts you. I was rather hoping after you so easily betrayed him by allying with Marcus that he'd realize how weak your loyalty is. But I forgot how young love feels; how important and substantial and lasting you think it is."

A few months ago I would have hit her, or made some petulant remark about her marrying Marcus for those reasons. A few months ago her words might have haunted me the way her words about my transience in Tobias' life had for a while.

But war changes you. And so does love. So I hit her with something that hurts so much worse than fists because it's the truth.

I smile at her pityingly, condescendingly, the same way she's been talking to me. "You're wrong. I saved him the same way he saved me when I tried to sacrifice myself to the faction you were born into." Shock crosses her face, but it's gone as quickly as it came. "Because that's what family does, Evelyn. The people you love pull you back from the brink, they save you from the mistakes you're too blinded to see. Tobias and I are each others family; the only family we have left."

She doesn't react, and I don't expect her to. But for once I feel like I'm the victor and not some stupid little girl after clashing with her.

"Why don't you and your friend go have lunch, Tris. Evelyn and I will be finished soon, and then I'll fill you in on the arrangements we're making for winter." Johanna's voice is as tired sounding as she looks, and suddenly I feel bad for her. She never signed up for this.

"Do you mind if we walk around for a while? It's nice to get out of the city; I'd like to enjoy it."

"Of course." She waves me off, but it's not dismissive in an unfriendly way like the action would be if Evelyn did it.

Edward is glaring at me with his one eye, the bright red drop of blood stitched into the patch of his other eye combining with his twisted expression to create a grotesque picture. I should probably be afraid of him, but after everything I've seen and experienced and lived through since I left Abnegation I can't find it in me to be afraid of a man with a gun. I know there's much worse things than that, things that actually warrant fear.

"How did you know that about Evelyn." Uriah hisses as soon as we're alone.

"You'll think it's stupid," I frown, "but she's manipulative, duplicitous, and thinks strategically. What other faction could she have come from?" There's something else too, I realize; the blue glass statue she smuggled to Tobias, but I don't tell Uriah that.

"She really hates you."

"I know."

"Why?"

"You're very nosy aren't you?" I tease.

"No, I'm curious. There's a difference." He teases back.

I can't help smiling. It's so easy to be around Uriah, always has been. Ever since I transferred to Dauntless he's been like a brother to me. Maybe he's another link in my new family.

"She wants to control Four, to use him. I get in the way of that, so she wants me gone." I shrug.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen." Uriah laughs.

We walk without any real destination, through fields being tended by people in an array of colors; the expected red and yellow of Amity alongside Dauntless black and Erudite blue. Even from a distance they look like what they are: inmates in a pretty prison. They look beaten down, even if I don't see any of the guards beating them.

We pick fruit off the trees, including a funny one that looks like a cross between a tomato and an apple that a little girl in a bright red dress and pigtails tells us is a persimmon. "Hey! How are you supposed to eat this?" Uriah calls after her, but she's too busy chasing after a girl who could only be her sister to notice.

"Just take a bite."

He eyes the fruit in his hand suspiciously. "You first."

"Coward." I snicker, but take a bite. I roll it over in my mouth, trying to decipher the flavor.

"Well?"

"It's good. Sweet, but a little spicy. The flavor is like a mix between apples and sweet oranges, and a little bit of pear, maybe? I don't know." I take another bite. "I like it." I pick another and shove it in my jacket pocket for later.

After a while we start making our way back towards Amity's buildings, having wandered far into their orchards and fields without realizing it. I'm eating a handful of scavenged blueberries when I catch sight of Johanna again.

The easy smile I remember from months before is back again. "I thought you got lost."

"No, just walked."

She leads us back into her office, shaking hands with Uriah along the way and introducing herself. She pours us cups of tea before sitting down before seating herself behind her desk. I lift the cup to my lips and hesitate.

"Don't worry, it's not spiked. So what are you doing here?"

"The Dauntless leaders sent me to see how everything is going. They wanted to know if you needed anything, had any messages for them."

"What I want is people with guns out of Amity, but that's not going to happen any time soon, is it?"

"I doubt it."

We descend into uncomfortable silence. "So... what did Evelyn want?" I finally ask.

She sighs heavily. "That depends. Her pretext for coming here was to make sure we had enough resources and manpower to meet the needs of the increased production we'd all like to see."

"Do you?" I interrupt.

"Yes, but it's going to take time. Despite the advances we have at our disposal food will only grow so fast. Can I ask you something?"

"Okay."

"She said something... troubling. It wasn't a threat exactly, but she said if we can't increase our production enough we should severely limit the food we send to Erudite; that hunger might give them the incentive they need to produce better additives or engineer strains of plants that produce more food. Do the Dauntless agree?"

"I don't know, to be honest. I'm not in the leadership."

"I didn't like the idea of people going hungry when it was the factionless, Tris, and I don't like it anymore now when it's the Erudite despite what they've done."

I stare down at the dregs in my cup, unsure of how I feel about it, if I  _should_  feel anything at all.

"You said that was just a pretext though." Uriah reminds us. "What do you think she was really here for?"

A rueful smile plays on Johanna's scarred face. "To remind me that Amity is without influence now; that even here, we have no power; that essentially we are slaves."

Uriah leans forward, watching Johanna intently. "Did something happen? I mean did she just drop by out of the blue to remind you of that, or was there a reason?"

"The Amity aren't happy with the situation - having armed guards here, I mean - maybe she thought they were thinking of fighting back, like the other factions did after Jeanine was killed."

"Are they?" I ask.

"Not yet, but if things don't change... maybe."

"Why haven't the Amity opened the gate? It seems like that would solve a lot of problems."

She's silent for a moment, weighing her words before speaking. "Your ancestor said that our society was supposed to solve the problems of whatever it is that lies beyond Amity. Those images of death and pain, of war... how will we be able to fulfil the hopes of those who placed us here when we're no better?"

"If - _if_  - the Amity decide to fight back would you come to Dauntless for help?"

* * *

It's dark by the time we pull up to the glass spire, the convoy of Amity trucks clattering to a stop in front of it. There's already a group of Dauntless waiting to unload the food, and I can see more Dauntless on the rooftops of the ruined buildings around us, guns hung loosely in their hands as they keep watch, protecting us from attack.

I should probably help unload the trucks or carry the food down to the kitchens, but I have too much to think about, and before I realize it my feet have carried me inside. I walk slowly downstairs and through the Pit, into the cafeteria, only vaguely noticing that we're having chicken again tonight. I suppose they grow quicker than cows; beef is becoming scarce.

Not long after I sit down I'm joined by Uriah, and then Tobias and Zeke, and eventually Tori and Harrison.

Zeke is the first one to break the silence. "Everything looks good. So far the guards don't seem to be getting too close to the inmates."

It makes sense to be concerned about that, until a few months ago these people were our faction, our friends.

Tori nods to herself, pleased. "I want you to go back out there every few weeks. Keep an eye on things."

"That's gonna suck once it starts to snow." Zeke grumbles, but assents to it with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Uriah?" Tori's still ignoring me, apparently.

"Evelyn and Edward were there; talking about limiting the food that's being sent to Erudite if the Amity don't increase production soon." He blurts out before I can stop him. Tact has never been a Dauntless priority, and I can see Tobias' knuckles go white around his knife and fork out of the corner of my eye. "But that's not important. Apparently the real reason she was there though - according to Johanna, anyway - is because she thinks the Amity are getting restless, thinks they might fight back."

"Will they?" Harrison asks, his voice low but deep, soothing.

"I don't know; she wouldn't say. I think she's hoping things will get better instead of worse."

"Tris?" Tobias asks quietly next to me, trusting in my better-than-average perception to get an accurate impression of what's going on there.

I set my knife and fork down carefully, then rub my hands across the top of my thighs. It's a nervous habit, I know, but as long as Christina's all-seeing Candor eyes aren't on me I don't try to stop myself.

"I think... I think without the Peace serum they would right now, today; no one likes being exploited. But since they're still getting it, it might take another war before they decide to side with or against anyone. But Uriah is right; I think they hope this will all blow over, that a new government will form that's fair to everyone."

"That's not going to happen." Tori snaps. "Erudite will never have a seat in any new government, and after the factionless stabbing us in the back, they never will either."

"Yes, because disenfranchising whole groups of people has worked so well for us in the past." Tobias says sarcastically.

"Just because your mother is their leader-" Tori starts, and then cuts off, wilting under the harshness of the glare Tobias directs at her.

Uriah snorts next to me, trying to suppress a laugh. "I don't think Evelyn's going to be a problem."

"And why's that?" Tori asks, her voice full ire she would probably like to take out on Tobias.

"Because you didn't see the verbal beat-down Tris gave her today." He smiles at me fondly, and all I want is for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow me. This isn't how I wanted to tell Tobias about what happened. "She didn't know what hit her."

When I can finally look up from my plate Tori looks like she's swallowed a lemon, but surprisingly Tobias looks relaxed, and that makes me relax. The rest of the meal passes quietly. Zeke and Uriah are the first ones to leave, eager to get back to Shauna and Christina probably. I follow not long after, but I don't go back to our apartment, choosing instead to sit at the bottom of the Chasm.

I don't know how long I sit there, arms wrapped around my legs and face buried in my knees letting the steady roar of water quiet my busy mind, but I feel Tobias join me eventually.

"I didn't know she'd be there."

I look over to see him watching me apprehensively. "I know. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

I know he's not, can see in it in the conflicted shifting of his eyes. "It's just me here."

He smiles at me, remembering when he said the same thing to me. "So... what did you say to her?"

Right now it feels so far away that I struggle to remember. "That she was wrong to think that I chose Marcus instead of you; that doing what I did would drive a wedge between us. I told her that family are the people who pull you back from the brink, who save you from yourself when you're too blinded to see your mistakes. I told her that you and I are family; the only family we have left."

He reaches out, sliding his fingers across my cheek and into my hair, pulling me towards him and meeting me in the middle. Sometimes words are useless. Sometimes the best way to tell someone something is to kiss them. This is one of those times.


	3. Chapter 3

The slam of the door. The mechanical click of the lock. Stumbled steps, the dull thunk of the knife strapped to my leg hitting the floor. The creak and groan of bed springs and shoes clattering to the floor.

I barely hear any of it it over the sound of blood rushing in my ears and the gasping breaths when Tobias and I can stand to put enough space between us to breathe. One of my hands cups the back of his neck, his hair tickling my knuckles as I pull him up the bed with me.

Somewhere in the scramble of limbs his knee ends up between my legs and it sends jolts of pleasure radiating through me that threaten to tumble past my lips in a moan. I left coherent thought somewhere at the bottom of the Chasm, but even without the well-placed pressure between my thighs it was supplanted with a single word: _yes_.

It's been too long since we've been intimate like this; since that night in the factionless safe-house. There were too many lies, too much unsaid and unaccounted for between us to be together after that. Not tonight though. Whatever remains of those things crumbles.

I claw at his shoulders, bunching his shirt in my hands and pull it off. His back is warm and my hands are cold. He shivers under them as one hand traces the patch of flames on his side and the other feels out the planes and curves of muscles bunching and stretching around his spine.

He shifts his weight forward and this time I can't stop a whimper bleeding through my lips. My face burns in embarrassment, but I feel Tobias' lips turn up in a smile against my neck. His hand loosens from where it's dug into the shallow spaces between my ribs and down my side, thumb grazing over the jut of my hip bone before cautiously tracing the waist of my jeans.

He's asking silent questions as he fingers at the button holding them together, and it's enough to make an alarm bell sound through the haze in my brain. When I don't answer he presses his forehead against mine. "All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will."

Something inside me stirs, rises up in defiance. I twist my fingers into his hair, shackling him to me, and clash my lips against his. It's not that much different from that day in the training room he threw knives at me, reminding me of my way out between each throw.

But it's not enough to stop my fear building up from gentle swells to crashing waves as he eases the button open and slides the zipper down. The sound is deafening in the silence. I have to the fight the urge to smack his hands away, to ask him what he's planning on doing.

I swallow hard, reminding myself that Tobias has seen my legs before, but it's a feeble protest in the face of the tidal wave of fear and panic overtaking everything else because it's not just my legs, he wants to uncover all of me.

A moment ago all I wanted was him, was this, and now in the place of that pleasant fog of lust blanketing everything I never wanted to think about; everything I thought I left behind when our friends were turned into drones and the people I loved died.

I think about how bony I am, how I'm made up of edges and angles instead of bends and curves. I think about how I have no hips to speak of, and breasts so small they're nearly flush with my ribs. I think of Peter's groping hands and taunting words about being built like a twelve year old. I think of how I've never done with before and have no idea what to do with Tobias once he's naked too. I think of the disappointment he will try to hide at all of it.

I feel like I'm drowning in the raging sea of my hallucination and desperately trying to cling to the rock and pull myself free. I feel fingers touch my cheek and flinch away instinctively, but of course it's just Tobias.

"I'm not going to hurt you." His voice sounds wounded, and something inside me breaks, pulls me out of the fear that I hadn't realized was making my shake, making my heart race, and my breathing come in rapid bursts.

"I know you're not." My voice comes out as a strained whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say you're sorry." He snaps.

His anger feels like a slap in the face. I pull myself up and move to the edge of the bed, hiding my face in my hands in case the tears prickling my eyes spill over to my cheeks. "I don't know what else to say."

I feel him shift, get off the bed, and walk around to sit next to me. "You don't have to apologize for your fears." But he still sounds angry, or frustrated, or maybe just exasperated, and it doesn't help. "What are you so afraid of?"

Even if I could talk around the burning tightness cinching my throat shut I wouldn't know what to say. I told him months before that I didn't understand his attraction to me and he'd called me stupid told me if all he wanted was sex he wouldn't come to me. I know what he meant, but I realize suddenly that it's not enough for him to love me.

"I told you before that you can tell me anything. I wish you would." He says softly.

There's so many thoughts swarming in my head that I can only eek out six words, but they sum up everything else. "I think you will be disappointed."

"I've never done this before either." He sounds embarrassed and it makes me feel fractionally better.

"It's not just that. I think you'll be disappointed because of... everything I'm not. Peter was right; I'm built like a boy. I worry that you'll be disappointed because I'm not curvy like a girl should be."

Tobias doesn't say anything. The sliver of light pouring from the cracked bathroom door doesn't illuminate us, so I can't read the expression on his face to know what he might be thinking. In the terrible quiet that settles between us I can't stop myself thinking the worst. I can't stop myself thinking my fears were well founded and in the silence Tobias is formulating a pacifying lie.

By the time I break it my voice sounds wet and I hate myself for it. "Please say something."

"You believe him?" He scoffs.

"It's not a matter of belief; I'm not blind. I'm short and skinny and bony. I don't have curves, just angles." My voice is hard and angry, but I'm not. It's just cover for the hurt and vulnerability burning in my chest.

"I know what you look like, too."

He's always struggled with kindness. My mind instantly fills in the blanks. _I know what you look like and I love you anyway_. I stand up, giving in to the sudden need to flee in the only way I can.

"Tris?"

"I'm going to take a shower." My voice is hollow, dead, but I can't really find it in me to care.

The close of the bathroom door behind me sounds final. It sounds like another wall going up between us. I move robotically, turning on the water, brushing my teeth. I open the door of the medicine cabinet so I don't have to look at my reflection in the mirror tacked to the front only to be confronted with the little pink plastic case of birth control pills resting on the shelf next to a bottle of salve. I'm tempted to throw them in the trashcan so they'll stop mocking me.

Under the nozzle in the shower I can't tell if I'm crying, it's all just fat wet drops of water sliding down my face. I remind myself that Tobias stayed in a faction that would have killed us both, a faction that he'd grown to loathe, because of me; that he put his life in danger to keep me strong when Jeanine was torturing me; that he loves me, and that should be enough.

But it's not. I want him to love me _and_ lust for me. One without the other feels like a consolation prize. I have his love and want his lust. If the tables were turned it would still be the same.

I stay in the shower until the water turns cold, chilling me to my bones, only then remembering the conflicted look in his eyes at the bottom of the Chasm. He needed me tonight, maybe not in the way I needed him that night in Amity, but I couldn't even give him that... whatever it was. And I don't know if I ever will be able to.

Maybe I will never get over this fear the same way Tobias' has never been able to get over any of his. The thought makes me sick. With what little strength I have left I force myself out of my sanctuary.

I slip into bed as gently as I can, but I know Tobias isn't asleep. He sighs and runs a finger down the notches of my spine. Usually it's enough to make me shiver in want, but all it does right now is remind me of how bony I am.

For the first time in a month I fall asleep without the comfort of his arms around me.

* * *

 

I should have a badge that reads _Refugee Liaison_. When I'm not busy training anyone of fighting age with Christina I spend my time finding homes and jobs in Dauntless for the refugees. This afternoon it's an Abnegation family. The ride up to the seventh story of the Spire is a quiet one. I don't expect it to be anything else.

In the mirrored interior of the elevator I can see the little girl, no older than seven, clutching at her mother's hand taking in my appearance with wide eyes. I keep looking forward but offer her a tight lipped smile, an Abnegation smile, in the mirror. She looks down, blushing furiously at being caught staring.

I shift my gaze to the rest of her family: her mother, a middle-aged woman who looks tired and haunted, and two brothers only a few years older than their sister. I don't have to ask where their father is; he's dead.

I never know by what strength the Abnegation to can stand to be here. Even if the Dauntless were under simulation they were still the ones executing people in the streets. Maybe they see how much the Dauntless who remain in the Pit are tortured by it, maybe they see the horror still lingering behind the eyes of the people who woke up holding guns amid a sea of grey and red.

The family follows along obediently as I lead them down hallway and into an apartment. It's not very big, but it's better than sharing beds in the dormitories. It belonged to someone before the war, dead or traitor I'm not sure; it doesn't matter, it's theirs now.

The mother eyes at the floor-to-ceiling windows warily. "Don't worry about the windows," I mutter once the kids wander off, "they're bullet-proof."

As I ride the elevator back down to ground level I look at myself in the mirror. I don't look much like the girl who jumped into the net first on Choosing Day. My hair's shorter; I have scars and tattoos I didn't have then. My wardrobe is rendered in shades of black and it clings to me, not as tight as some of the other girls wear, but not loose either.

Black boots, black jeans, black shirt cut to show off my ravens, black jacket. I close my eyes and try to remember what I looked like that last day when my mother cut my hair. All I remember is looking grey and ghostly. And maybe I was just a ghost then, a shadow before I came here and took a definite form.

I automatically exit the elevator when the chime sounds and the door opens, my mind too bound up in thoughts to notice where my feet are carrying me. I'm unsurprised to find myself at the door of the Control Room. Tobias and I haven't spoken since my fear wrecked everything last night; he was gone when I woke up this morning.

I press my palm flat against the cold metal door, hesitating. I have no idea if he even wants to see me right now. But my pride has gotten me in trouble more often than I'd like to admit, and maybe it will again today; it won't let me fail without a fight.

Tobias is bowed over the desk, asleep and using his arms as pillows. He looks young when he sleeps; less like a man who's killed people, and more like a boy of eighteen. I wonder if he slept at all last night, or just waited for me to drift off before coming up here. I sink into the chair next to him, hyper-vigilant against making any noise that would rouse him.

I pull my knees up against my chest and wrap my arms around them. He almost killed me in this room. I wonder if he thinks about that while he's here. He never talks about it if he does. I didn't know who I was before I came here. I didn't know there were people I'd die for, or kill for.

When his eyes sleepily peel open they're dark blue and thoughtful. "All of your fears are about powerlessness." He says without preamble. "Is that what happened last night?"

"Not like you mean. Not like Marcus used to make you in your fear landscape."

"How then?"

I stare at him carefully replaying what happened in my head. I tell him the truth. "I didn't know how far you wanted to go. I don't know if I'm ready for _that_ yet."

"I don't know if I am either."

"Then what we were doing last night?"

Even in the dim light of the computer monitors I see him blush deep, burning crimson. "There's other things besides sex."

It makes me blush too.

"The part of your fear that isn't about being powerless... I don't think it's about me; I think it's about you, about how you see yourself. I don't think Peter touching you the way he did helped, but I think it's deeper than that. You have this ideal in your head and you don't live up to it, and it warps the way you think I see you."

As much as I hate to admit it I know he's right. Even when I was Abnegation I was self-conscious to the point of discomfort even if I didn't have to look at myself in the mirror everyday. I never could manage to project out from myself enough to forget what I looked like.

"I don't see you that way though. I like the way you look, not because I love you, but because I like the way you look."

I let my gaze wander to the computer screens in front of us. I could argue with him that he hasn't seen me naked, and even if he's thought about it fantasy is probably better than reality, but I know it's a losing battle.

"You're never going to get over this until you like the way you look, Tris." He says, breaking into my thoughts. He looks smug, knowing he so accurately read my mind.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

I take a deep breath, steadying myself because I'm not sure I want to know the answer to this question. "We've been back here for a month. Why haven't you tried..." I trail off, trying to find the right word or phrase and coming up empty. "I mean, I know we've both been busy, but I just thought if you were interested it wouldn't take you a month." I finish lamely.

"You haven't either," he points out, "and you've always been pretty bold about taking what you want."

"So have you."

"Not this. I wasn't the one crawling in your bed in Amity or... whatever that was that night in the safehouse."

"Answer the question, Tobias, please." I whisper, suddenly afraid that he's stalling for a reason.

"We never talked about you fear - I didn't know if it was even still a fear -, but I didn't want to do anything that would make it worse. And," his blush returned in full force, "even if this isn't in my fear landscape, it doesn't mean I'm not terrified by it."

"What do you have to be afraid of?"

He lets out a mirthless chuckle. "I never even kissed a girl before you, Tris. I have no clue what I'm doing, and I don't mean just that. I have no idea how to just be with someone, and that alone is terrifying because it means making myself vulnerable. But I sit up here and I think about it, and even though I'm dead tired by the end of the day the only thing I want to do is crawl in bed with you and forget everything else.

I want to show you how much I love you, I want you to feel it, and then as soon as we're alone I find myself looking for any excuse not to follow through with it because I don't want to be one of those guys whose only concern is pleasing themselves. And I have no idea how to any of that. So to answer your question, I haven't done anything because I'm terrified of seeing dissapointment in _your_ eyes."

"Do you think about it a lot?"

Tobias looks at me in disbelief for a moment before he laughs. He looks like he did that morning in Marcus' living room; happy and free and alive. "That's what you got out of all that?"

"I'm just curious."

"Then yes, I do." He grabs the armrest of the chair I'm sitting on and pulls it over, close enough that he can slot his lips against mine. And for a while I forget everything else.

When we finally stop I lean my forehead against his. "What are we going to do about this?" I sigh.

"I have an idea; several, actually."

"Why am I not surprised?"


	4. Chapter 4

“You don’t have to kill someone, just disable them,” Tobias says patiently from beside me. “Wrist is your best option, but it’s hard to hit, so try to hit the shoulder; only aim for the legs if you can’t hit anything else.”  
  
I feel like I should call him Four because once again he’s my instructor, not my boyfriend.  
  
“Remember breathe in - _one, two, three_ \- breathe out - _one, two, three_. Never be in a rush; rushing makes you sloppy.”  
  
I tuck the rifle more firmly into the nook of my shoulder and draw in a long, slow breath.  
  
“Good. Breathe around the fear. Take your time, wait for it to subside.”  
  
I breath in, I breath out. I try to block out the fact I’m holding a gun, even though it isn’t a handgun like I used to shoot Will. I try to block out the nervousness I feel that Tobias’ might be getting impatient, I’ve been waiting so long to pull the trigger. Instead I focus on my breaths, focus on the red dot at the other end of the room from us. I let it blur in my vision, and after the seconds drag to minutes I feel my heart calm.  
  
Somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain an alarm goes off, and before I can let the panic overtake me I pull the trigger. The butt of the rifle jolts into my shoulder, and the gunshot wound in it twinges a little - it’s not fully healed yet -, but I barely notice.  
  
I wipe at my eyes with the heel of my hand, only realizing now that they were leaking fat tears down my face. I don’t even know if I’ve hit the target.  
  
“Again.”  
  
I reposition and start breathing all over again.

* * *

  
  
“You know, I know he’s not our instructor anymore, but Four is still intimidating,” Christina says next to me, both of us trying to catch our breath. I’ve got a hand clamped around my side, certain the blow she landed while we were sparring was forming a livid bruise.  
  
I look up, my eyes watching Tobias and Zeke laughing as they dance around each other, their boxing match quickly devolving into a wrestling match as they each duck fists and dodge feet expertly. Neither are trying to hurt the other; it’s just the Dauntless form of goofing off.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, I mean after watching him go after Marcus,” she scoffs, “and I’m guessing he’s the one who beat Drew to a pulp?”  
  
“Yes.” My voice comes out a defensive hiss.  
  
“You really love him, don’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, I do.” I say flatly, leaving no room for argument.   
  
She leans back against the wall next to me and nudges my shoulder with hers. “Oh, calm down. I don’t think he’s a monster like Eric, Tris. I’m just saying he’s intimidating sometimes, even now,” she laughs light and carefree.  
  
The floor beneath us shivers as Tobias and Zeke land with a crash, each trying to pin the other, but mostly just succeeding in flailing around wildly.  
  
“You were never afraid of him,” Christina says suddenly, “even when he was our instructor.”  
  
It’s not strictly true, but I don’t correct her either because even if he doesn’t need me to, I do protect and defend him; I love him. He used to scare me though sometimes, the way his moods would shift without warning, but it was never because I thought he’d hurt me. I didn’t understand why he did the things he did, and I didn’t know how to react to it and it left me feeling powerless; _that_ was what I was afraid of.  
  
“Why?” She continues, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Was it just because you guys were together already and he’s like a big fluffy bunny in private, or what?” Her words come out in a rush, and when she finishes she smiles at me. “Just ignore me if I’m being obnoxious.”  
  
I sigh deeply, blowing out all the tension I feel at her probing questions. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as comfortable as she is needling people for information. “I don’t know, Christina, he just didn’t. And he’s not a ‘fluffy bunny’ in private. Honestly, he doesn’t treat me any different when we’re alone than when we’re around people.”  
  
There’s voices floating down the hall through the open door, and soon we’re joined by a group of trainees - we can’t really call them initiates anymore - on their way to dinner. They watch avidly as Tobias finally succeeds in pinning Zeke to the floor.  
  
As soon as they’re on their feet again the trainees crowd around them, curious and inquisitive; yesterday we started hand-to-hand combat training, and all of the boys are sporting black eyes and bruises. Before long Tobias is demonstrating different moves, his eyes alight in a way they only ever are when he’s teaching.  
  
Eventually he calls me over, and the tension rippling through small crowd of trainees as I push my way through is palpable; I’m their instructor after all.  
  
“You don’t need to be big to win a fight,” he’s saying to a slight Erudite boy clad in blue pants and a black t-shirt, “you just need to know what your strengths are.” He motions Zeke into the ring with me. “Don’t go easy on her,” he smirks.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Zeke smiles at me, “I won’t.”  
  
I smile back. This is why I love Tobias. He never doubts my strength or courage or toughness,  even when I do. And he makes me stronger by never letting me give into that weakness. He put enormous demands on me and expected - not hoped - I’d meet them. I never would have loved Al or someone like him; someone who coddled me, who never believed in me, who treated me like I was too innocent or incapable.  
  
By the time Zeke and I finish he’s nursing a bloody nose and I’ve got a smattering of fresh bruises, but it’s him who limps out of the training room as we all walk to dinner. 

* * *

  
  
I hover nervously next to the dresser, watching as Tobias sits on the bed and pulls the knots out of the laces in his shoes. “How,” I croak out and then cough, clearing my throat. “How do you want to do this?”  
  
“Like we normally do,” he says off-hand, but stops once he catches sight of me standing so awkwardly in a place I’m usually relaxed. His shoes are floppy and unlaced as he walks over and stands in front of me. “I don’t want you to feel afraid here.”  
  
His hands slide up my arms, over my shoulders, to my neck; fingers sliding into my hair, thumbs hooking under my jaw to tilt my face up. “This is our home. You should always feel safe in your home.” I don’t have to ask why his voice is so serious. I know he spent sixteen years fearing his ‘home’.  
  
“I always felt safe here, even when it wasn’t ours, just yours.” I push up on my toes, brushing my lips against his. “But I like that it’s ours now.”  
  
“Me too.” He leans his forehead against mine. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”  
  
It takes me a minute to come up with something, and I’m not sure it’s the right solution, but for now it does make me feel better. My fingers find the hem of his shirt and I pull it off. “I don’t want to be the only one partially dressed.” I say, my voice sounding braver than I feel as I scurry into the bathroom to change.  
  
I don’t look at myself in the mirror as I undress and pull Tobias’ shirt on. It’s big enough to almost hit the middle of my thighs, but I still feel exposed. It takes all my courage to open the bathroom door.  
  
Tobias is flat on his back, head at the foot of the bed, one leg hanging off the side, bare from the waist up. He looks as nervous as I feel as I sit next to him, hyper-aware of the fact that he can see my underwear from his position.  
  
For a moment the silence is heavy between us, and I almost beg him to let me turn the lights off, but then his gaze shifts to studying the ceiling, and he starts talking.  
  
He tells me about his day, about everything he had to do around the Pit, and the meeting he had with Tori and Harrison; about Zeke badgering him about a party he wants to throw this weekend; about anything and everything. He’s trying to distract me - and maybe himself too -, and I let him.  
  
Eventually I relax enough to lean back against the pillows behind me, and when he quiets I fill the silence by telling him about my day with the trainees. My stomach flutters nervously when Tobias reaches out and starts smoothing his hand up and down my bare calf as I talk, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes, and then it’s nice. Better than nice, actually.  
  
When I run out of things to talk about it’s quiet again, but this time it isn’t tense, it’s comfortable. After a while a small smile turns up the corners of Tobias’ lips.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
“Chasing you up that ridiculous Ferris Wheel,” he murmurs.  
  
“You didn’t have to follow me.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“So why did you?”  
  
He rolls over and plants his lips on my ankle. They’re warm and plush and damp as they press around the bone. “I didn’t really think about it at the time.” He kisses a few inches higher, “but I liked you,” a few inches higher, “and I wanted to be alone with you.”  
  
His lips are cautious and he moves slow, not wanting to scare me, and even if I’d never admit to it to him, it does, a little bit. By the time he makes it up to my knee my heart is in my throat, but he doesn’t stop there.  
  
“And it seemed perfect; no one would question why I was following you, or what we were doing up there. But - like I said - I don’t think I thought about it at the time, not like that anyway. I just wanted to be with you; that was all I was really aware of.” By the time he kisses just below the hem of my stolen shirt I can barely breath. But it’s not all fear. There’s a thrum, a tingling tightness radiating out from the apex of my thighs that he’s so close to, that I want him closer to, behind the fear.  
  
His fingers tangle into the fabric covering me, starkly pale against the black of the shirt, but before he can push it up, I’m pushing him off, pressing him back down into the mattress and crawling on top of him. He doesn’t protest, just traces small circles with his thumbs on the top of my thigh. His eyes are deep blue and burn into mine, and I wonder if mine are bright and awake the way he likes.  
  
“Knew you’d do this.” He smiles up at me smugly.  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“Take control. It’s how you got out the simulation, right?” He asks curiously. “You always do this when you’re nervous.”  
  
I trace the planes of his chest, fingers bumping over the shallow ridges of muscle. “Is that what I’m doing?”  
  
He sits up quick, holding on to my waist to keep me steady as he kisses me. “I like it when you do.” He lays back down, but keeps both his hands under my shirt, cuffed around my hips. “Sometimes too much,” he adds, cryptically.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
And for once he looks sheepish. “Think about where you’re sitting. It can get... problematic.”  
  
It takes a minute for my brain to catch up to what he’s saying. “Oh... Oh... do you want me to move?” I hastily offer.  
  
“Stay. It’s fine for now.” His tone is pleading. I stare down at my hands where they’re tracing patterns on his stomach, thinking this new revelation over.  
  
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, Tris.”  
  
My eyes snap up to find him watching me apologetically. “You didn’t. I just,” I shake my head and look back down, “I never thought about it before, and I like that I could do that to you.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“I used to think you saw me like a little sister or something; someone who needed to be protected. I thought that was why you followed me up that Ferris Wheel. I didn’t want you to see me that way, so yes, I like it.” By the time I finish my voice is an embarrassed mutter.  
  
I feel his fingers stir against me, see the fabric rustle as he moves them slowly up my sides. And somehow it’s better not having to see his skin against mine, just feeling the sharp snag of a callous, and the warmth of his palm and the cool of his fingers.  
  
His touch is gentle, curious and questioning as his hands slide higher and higher, thumbs brushing against the sides of my breasts. They still there, and while I should probably be feeling exposed because the shirt has been rucked up enough to expose my underwear to him, all I can think about is how small I am... and how he must be wishing that I wasn’t.    
  
“Breathe, Tris.” I didn’t even realize I’m holding my breath. He waits like that until I do. “Is this okay?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
He shifts, his thumbs stretching closer and closer to the sharp points jutting against the thin fabric covering my chest. When they do I shudder at the new sensations coursing through me, even through the fear knotting my stomach.  
  
“Look at me, Tris.” Tobias’ voice is thick with some emotion I haven’t heard in it before. I peel my eyes open slowly, looking up at him through my lashes, afraid of what I might find.  
  
His eyes are blown black, filled with heat and want. And when I can lose myself in the lust I feel, reflected in his eyes, I can forget my worries for a while. I feel the tension cinched around my lungs fade, the last vestiges of it releasing me.    
  
“Does it feel,” he stutters searching for the right word, “okay?”  
  
“Yeah.” My voice is quiet, but certain.  
  
He smiles up at me, pleased that even though he’s never touched a girl like this before, he’s making me feel good. I let my eyes shutter closed again, focusing on the way his fingers feel on my sensitive flesh. I feel him shift under me, reaching for a better angle to cup my breasts, one in each hand.  
  
“Like this?” He asks fingers brushing across my nipples. I nod, because I can’t speak. I don’t know how anymore. “Or this?” he continues, trapping them between his fingers and squeezing lightly.  
  
A shudder rolls through me, and somewhere in my brain I know I should be embarrassed by it, but I just don’t care. All I care about is his hands on me and the warmth spreading out from my core, snaking through my veins until my toes curl in towards the soles of my feet and my fingers bite into the flesh of Tobias’ biceps.  
  
One hand slides back down to wrap around my hips, but before I can regret it’s loss he’s sitting up, kissing me again. Our lips are timid at first, just little pecks that would be chaste except for the intentions behind them. I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer still, my free hand holding his cheek to keep his lips on mine. And like it always does the kiss deepens, each of us trying to take control, but not with any real threat.  
  
He tastes like honey and mint, and it’s too much. The pressure of his arm around me, his fingers attentively teasing me, and his mouth warm and demanding. I feel like my bones are melting, like I’m slowly dissolving into him.  
  
Both his hands retreat to the safety of my hips and this time I can’t stop a petulant whine edging up my throat. But it’s followed almost immediately by the retreat of his lips and all I can think is that I must have done something wrong.  
  
“Sorry,” he says through a bursting breath, head tilted against my shoulder, “I just... we have to slow down for a minute.” I start to slump, defeated, but his grip tightens. “Don’t,” he sounds tortured, “don’t move.”  
  
I pull back for a second, taking in the way his eyes are pinched closed, his expression pained. “Did I do something wrong?” He shakes his head, but doesn’t open his eyes. “What are you thinking about then?”  
  
“Anything and everything not you,” he bites out. When everything clicks into place I can’t stop a little hysterical laugh slipping past my lips. “stop laughing,” he groans.  
  
I frame his face in my hands and press my lips to his. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at me.”  
  
He smiles at me weakly for a moment, and then buries his face against my neck. He stays there for a long time, letting me run my fingers through his hair, letting the energy between us slowly settle into to something sleepy and contented, even though I’d like to keep going.


	5. Chapter 5

I could feel Tobias everywhere. The press of his weight between my thighs, the pressure of his fingers between the mattress and my back. There is no fear, he kisses it away; chases it off my lips, across my jaw, down my neck, and away. All I feel is wanting; lust and love and need pulsing through me.  
  
The incessant beeping of the alarm clock brings me back to reality. The bed is empty. I have no idea when Tobias got up or where he went, but I at least know that if it was something bad he would have woken me up too. I pull his pillow against me, wrapping my arms around it and inhaling his scent off it. It’s different now, mixed with my own, but instead of calming me like I thought it would, all it does is make my frustration peak.   
  
I kick the covers away, and stomp into the bathroom to turn on the shower. I try to let the water wash away the tension still thrumming through me, the after effects of my dream, but everytime I close my eyes I’m assaulted with images of Tobias and I, memory and fantasy merging into one. By the time my soapy fingers slide up to the space between my legs the pleasure it sends through me is enough to supplant the reality of my fingers with the fantasy of Tobias’.   
  
Self-pleasure fell somewhere between frowned upon and forbidden in Abnegation. But I’m not in Abnegation anymore; there is no Abnegation anymore. There’s only me and Tobias and the cold tile and hot water in this shower. I feel everything inside of me rise up, build to a wave that crests and breaks, that makes me weak in the best way. 

* * *

  
The dining hall was almost empty, most people had already finished dinner, but I lingered, the piece of chocolate cake in front of me untouched thinking over the things we have planned for the trainees. It’s different now than it was when I was an initiate. The first test they had to go through isn’t literally jumping into the unknown, it was enduring Niles and the Candor truth serum.   
  
We don’t make them lay bare their darkest secrets, but since we can’t have them going through training only to use the knowledge against us, we had to know where their loyalties lied. It was the easiest step we could take to keep everyone sheltering here alive. And bringing the Candor into the process had helped re-establish an alliance with them after Jack Kang tried to sell us out to the Erudite. Of course the fact he was no longer their leader helped too.  
  
But that isn’t the only change; the simulations will be different too. Next week won’t be spent facing their fears, it will be spent going through a series of simulations to test their reactions to things like people being bullied or put in danger. Compassion is another form of bravery after all, and if they won’t stand up for others as well as themselves we don’t want them.   
  
I laugh to myself, wondering if this is what being a parent is like. We are doing everything we can to not raise another generation of Dauntless bullies; to get back to principles that Dauntless had strayed from over the years, while at the same time encouraging the virtues of the other factions. Compassion, honesty, and intelligence all had a place in the training now.  
  
The week after that they’ll spend shooting at each other with paintballs in the abandoned buildings surrounding the Pire. It’s really just an extension of Capture The Flag, but when Christina and I redesigned the training program we both decided there needed to be more emphasis on teamwork and strategy, and - like the Candor truth serum -, this was the easiest way.   
  
Besides it would be fun, and a good way for the trainees to relax before they spent a week going through another round of simulations - this time their own fears -, and eventually their fear landscapes.   
  
Even before I see him, I know it’s Tobias who touches my shoulder as he sits down next to me. “You look like you’re deep in thought.”  
  
“And you look tired,” I reply, taking in his sagging posture and beleaguered expression. I push my cake in front of him, and a small smile turns up his lips. “I spent all day at the Hub.”  
  
“I was wondering where you were.”  
  
“I didn’t want to wake you up.”  
  
“What were you doing there?”  
  
“Organizing for the trials.”  
  
The trials. I’d forgotten about them. All of the Dauntless and Erudite leaders were being tried for their crimes; most of them would end up dead. It was another change; in the past they would have been tried and sentenced by their factions, but in this new world everyone would have a hand in it.   
  
“We need to pick three people from Dauntless to sit on the jury with Candor, Abnegation, and the factionless.”  
  
“No Amity?”  
  
He laughs humorlessly. “No; continuing punishment for their non-involvement. They can send three people as ‘advisors’, but they won’t have an official say.”  
  
“Do you think they will?”  
  
“I don’t know, Tris. I hope they do.”  
  
I rub my hand up and down his back, over the faction symbols his shirt covers. It’s a simple touch, but touching is powerful even when it is simple. It would be easy to say it’s because of the way we grew up, but I’d seen it too often in the days and weeks after the war. People of all factions needing physical contact, whether holding hands or hugging or something more intimate. Nothing seemed to be able to replace the way touching could soothe a person.   
  
“Who are the Abnegation and factionless sending?” My tone is careful, but it’s the subject that I’m treading lightly over, not the words. To anyone else the question is innocent, but Tobias knows what I’m really asking him.   
  
“No one I know from Abnegation, but you’ve actually met the factionless jurors; they were in Marcus’ living room the morning after we escaped from Erudite headquarters.”  
  
“Please, _please_ tell me it’s not Peter and Drew,” I groan. _Or Evelyn_ , I add silently.  
  
“Ugh... I’d almost forgotten about them. No. Jacob, Sophie, and Nathan.”  
  
There were more than three people there that morning, even without Peter, Drew, and Evelyn, but I never knew their names. I know one of them was playing the banjo and another made a joke about Tobias and I kissing, but even those who distinguished themselves are hazy and indistinct in my memory.   
  
“Do you...” I trail off, looking for the right words. “What do you think of them? Do you like them?”  
  
“They’re okay, I guess. I like them as people, but I’m not sure that will make a difference.”  
  
I let him eat in silence until the only thing left on the plate is crumbs. “You never wanted this. Never wanted to lead, never wanted the factions... why are you doing this?”  
  
He pushes the empty plate away and turns to face me, taking my hand in his and lacing his fingers with mine. He doesn’t look at me but I can still see the shame he’s trying to hide. “I didn’t do anything. I knew what was going on with the Dauntless and Erudite and I didn’t do anything.”  
  
Listening to him makes me think of him under the truth serum and how he said he was born for Abnegation and after he met me he thought he could make more of his choices in life. It reminds me of my father and how he said we should give power to those who do not want it, and how we should use guilt as a tool and not a weapon.   
  
“Even if it wouldn’t have changed anything I should have tried. And you’re right, I didn’t believe in the factions anymore - I still don’t -, but we have a chance to change things. Maybe nothing I do will make a difference, but I have to at least try.”  
  
“What do you think society should look like?” We’ve been so concerned with just staying alive for so long I’ve never asked him. It’s seems ridiculous now that we haven’t talked about it before.   
  
“There’s something I want to show you first before we have that conversation, but you need to be able to shoot a gun before I can.” I can’t even imagine what would require that, but at least it’s not another simulation. I don’t think I can go through that again after everything that happened at Erudite. He reaches up with his free hand, hooking a finger around around my ear to pull me close. “But right now I really just want to fall asleep next to my girlfriend.”  
  
“Lucky girl,” I whisper.  
  
“Lucky guy,” he whispers back.   
  
As soon as we’re through the door of our apartment Tobias shucks out of his shirt, dutifully handing it over for me to sleep in with a shake of his head and a sarcastic comment about me stealing all his clothes.   
  
I lay in bed watching him splash water on his face and neck through the open bathroom door, the faction symbols on his back on display. There’s a part of me that wishes things were different, that the world wasn’t robbing us of our time and energy and we could just be normal teenagers for once, but maybe that was never meant to be our path in life.   
  
I’m already half-asleep when he slips between the covers next to me and kisses my lips, then down my neck to my ravens, a mumbled I love you wafting across my skin as he does so. I pull his face back up to mine, my fingers caressing the curve of his cheek as I look at him in the dark.   
  
“Everything you’re doing, Tobias... I’m proud of you.” It feels like a secret whispered between us, and maybe he knows and I don’t need to say it, but it feels important to nonetheless.   
  
He touches his forehead to mine for a moment and pulls me closer, burying his face against me. For tonight it’s enough. 

* * *

  
I finger the plain black dress hanging in our closet. It’s the only dress I own, the same one Christina picked out for me when we were still initiates. I never really had a chance to wear it; being fashionable wasn’t high on my list of priorities in the middle of the war. Tonight is different though; tonight I’m going to my first Dauntless party.  
  
I smile remembering Marlene saying it would be easier to fight in a dress and _who cares if you’re flashing your underwear as long as you’re kicking the crap out of them?_ Even though the weeks have stretched to months I still feel the ache of grief shroud my heart. I pull the dress off the hanger. It might be too much for a birthday party, but I want to wear it.   
  
It’s tighter than I remember, but maybe that’s just because I bought it the first day I came to Dauntless, when I was still lanky. Now I have bulges of muscle that keep the fabric from floating freely around me. I twist around, trying to see how tight it is on my backside, but eventually give up and drag the desk chair into the bathroom and climb up on top of it so I can see it in the mirror.   
  
By Dauntless standards there’s nothing provocative about what I’m wearing, so I don’t change. I put the chair back and by the time I hear the door close and Tobias’ footsteps cross the floor I’m pushed up on my toes, leaning against the sink, peering into the mirror, and carefully lining my eyes in black.   
  
I see him leaning against the door, arms crossed across his chest in the reflection. His eyes slide over me, and even though there’s space between us his gaze feels intimate. When I finish my cheeks are flushed pink and I don’t know what to do with my hands. “Is it too much? The dress, I mean.”  
  
He closes the distance between us and fits his hands around my neck, sliding his fingers into my hair. “I like the dress,” he whispers and then presses his lips gently against mine. My fingers find the hem of his shirt, slide underneath to touch his bare skin as we kiss.   
  


**xxxx**

  
The only way we made it out the door was with promises of later. I look at myself in the mirrored interior of the elevator as Tobias watches the panel over the doors, each number illuminating in turn as we rise up and up, carrying us towards Zeke and Uriah’s new apartment.   
  
My lips are swollen and my cheeks are still pink from our impromptu make-out session. I still don’t think I’m pretty, but I am striking. Except for the patch of blue on my arm from the Erudite serum my skin looks creamy against the black of my dress, and my eyes are always piercing when I line them in kohl.   
  
I blush even deeper remembering Tobias’ fingers dancing across my backside, and his playfulness at pointing out that I do, in fact, have some curves. It was even harder to leave our apartment after that, to guide his hands out from under my dress and the places I wanted them most.   
  
When the doors open I can hear the party before I can see it, a steady hum of voices punctuated by raucous bursts of laughter. Tori is standing in the hallway laughing harder than I’ve ever seen her as Harrison’s boyfriend Liam cracks jokes. Maybe it’s just the alcohol in her system, but she smiles at me, greeting me like it wasn’t the first time she’d spoken to me since that day in Jeanine’s laboratory.   
  
The apartment is packed with people, but as soon as we walk through the door Zeke booms out a greeting and drags us into the kitchen. “You need drinks, immediately.”   
  
“Hey, Tris,” Uriah says as he pulls me into a hug.  
  
“Happy birthday, Uriah.” I can’t help stiffen a little at his touch, and I don’t let go of Tobias’ hand; it’s still strange for me to be touched so casually by anyone but him. As soon as Uriah lets go Tobias subtly shifts us around so that he’s standing behind me, both hands on my hips, sheltering me. I’m grateful for it; grateful that he understands me.   
  
“Do you guys like what we’ve done with the place?”   
  
I look around, but it’s hard to make out anything besides the wall color with all the people milling about.   
  
“It’s great. I’m sure Eric would hate it,” Tobias says sarcastically.   
  
“This used to be Eric’s apartment?” I ask, my tone clearly conveying disgust.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Uriah smirks. “I thought we’d find a closet full of dead girls or something when we threw his shit out.”  
  
“So, Tris,” Zeke says with a mischievous grin, “I’m really glad you’re here. The last time Four and I got drunk you were still an initiate and you couldn’t stay and hang out with us by the Chasm. He moped until he passed out; totally killed my buzz.”  
  
“I didn’t mope.” His voice is somewhere between defensive and embarrassed.   
  
“You moped. There was moping. Back me up on this Lauren, you were there.”  
  
Her cheeks are rosy and an easy smile slides across her face. “I remember moping,” she says in a singsong voice from her perch on the counter.   
  
Tobias’ arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. “Can you blame me?”  
  
“Nope.” I feel my cheeks burn. Part of me wishes a hole would open up and swallow me, but another part of me - the bigger part of me - is pleased, is incandescent with their compliments. “Go easy on that, Tris,” Zeke says as he hands us our drinks. “It’s strong stuff.”  
  
As Tobias leads me away I take a sip and grimace. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” he mumbles just loud enough for me to hear. It’s hard for us to make it more than a few feet without running into someone he knows, or at least people who know him. After a few minutes I stop worrying about remembering people’s names or whether I’m shaking hands properly.   
  
He keeps an arm anchored around me and there’s undisguised adoration in his eyes every time he looks at me; pride in his voice every time he says _I don’t think you’ve met my girlfriend, Tris_ ; and a smug look on his face when people realize I’m the girl who stabbed Eric and cheated death at the hands of Jeanine Matthews because he’s always known how strong I am.   
  
The emotions brimming inside of me make me feel like I’m floating, make me feel like my body is too small to hold them all; it makes me feel as light as he looks, smiling and laughing and joking as we make our way through the crowd to where Shauna’s holding court like a queen in one corner.    
  
She’s not as welcoming as Zeke and Uriah were, she’s not suspicious or cold like she used to be either. Tobias and I are polite and she’s awkward, and it’s the most uncomfortable I’ve been since we got here. I end up taking a few more sips of my drink just for something to do, but mercifully it doesn’t last long before Zeke reappears by our side.  
  
“You aren’t even close to drunk,” he accuses, promptly fills up Tobias’ cup with something out of a brown bottle that smells sharp to my nose before shooing people off the couch so we could all sit down.   
  
I sip carefully at my own drink, content to listen to Zeke and Tobias talk. It makes me feel warm and relaxed and eventually sleepy, so I slip my shoes off and pull my legs up, tucking myself into Tobias’ side. I realize it’s not something I would’ve normally done, but the alcohol makes me not care; it’s where I want to be. I focus on the way his shoulder moves under my cheek as his hand rubs up and down my arm, letting the conversation dull to white noise in my ears.   
  
I’m not keeping track of how much Tobias is drinking, though I know it’s more than me - a lot more. His breath is thick with it and his eyes are heavy when he leans in and asks me if I’m ready to go. It’s the only giveaway besides his sluggishness that he’s drunk. Thankfully the party has thinned, so we don’t have to fight our way back to the elevator.   
  
The ride back down to the Pit is a quiet one, and I expect him to fall into bed as soon as we’re through the door, but I hear him moving around as I wash the little bit of makeup off my face and change into something to sleep in. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, draining a bottle of water as I step out of the bathroom, and a minute after I get under the blanket so does he.   
  
His hand circles around my knee, and travels upwards, pressing little dragging dents into my flesh as it goes, and it’s enough to bring back all that sweet, aching need from before the party back in full force in an instant. I had assumed ‘later’ wouldn’t happen tonight, and even though I’m tired, I’m not too tired for this.   
  
I reach back, grabbing onto his hip and pulling him closer, and that seems to be all the invitation he needs to press against me. He’s hard against my back and it makes my breath catch in my throat. He’s been careful not to let me feel that particular part of him, and it’s a surprise, but not a frightening one; if anything I’m more curious than scared.   
  
I roll over and pull him on top of me, and after a second of searching his lips find mine in the dark. But his kisses are drunk and sloppy and I tilt my face away, letting him worry my neck instead. It’s enough to take the edge off my want, but not enough to make me push him away.   
  
His hands, however, are. They’re as sloppy and uncoordinated as his lips and once they find their way up my shirt his touch would be more accurately described as ‘groping’ rather than ‘caressing’. There’s a small part of my brain that recognizes that this is how Peter touched me, but I’m not scared by it, just annoyed.   
  
I grab his arm and tug, pulling his hand back down to my hips, and he keeps it there for a minute before sliding back up to my breasts. When I have to remove his hand a second, and then a third time I can’t stop a frustrated sigh escaping.   
  
“Let me touch you, Tris,” he whines against my neck, and I give in to it for a while, but instead of making me want him more, it just makes me angry. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be between us. We’re both supposed to enjoy this, not just him.  
  
And finally I just snap. “Stop it,” I say firmly and grab his arm, pushing him away roughly.   
  
“I just want to make you feel good.” He pushes back against me, but it’s more of a plea than a threat.  
  
“Well, you’re not,” I bite out, pushing him until he’s sitting back on his heels at the foot of the bed. “If I was groping you like that you wouldn’t like it either.”  
  
“I wasn’t ‘groping’ you,” he snaps back and all it does it make me angrier.   
  
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep. And if you can’t keep your hands to yourself you can sleep on the floor.”   
  
“Fine!” He grabs a pillow off the bed. “Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor if that will make you happy!”  
  
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remind myself that he’s drunk and a boy and stupid, and fighting with him isn’t going to make this better. But it’s hard when he’s muttering to himself, and finally I can’t stop the words, “shut up, Four,” slipping past my lips.  
  
For a moment there’s dead silence. “I _hate it_ when you call me that.”  
  
“Then don’t act like him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm guessing that ending isn't going to be super popular, but in the interest of realism I included it. Don't worry I won't have them fighting for chapters and chapters, but they're both new to this so they're both going to make mistakes.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke to the sound of the shower running, and even though I want to ignore it, I can't. My brain won't let me get back to sleep once it registers the ache in my jaw, born of gritting my teeth all night in frustration that the bed was too big and too cold without Tobias in it with me.

But I wasn't going to beg him to come to bed after he lashed out at me like I'd done something wrong. And like it had as I'd tossed and turned our argument replayed in my head. I flop onto my back, raking my fingers through my hair, trying to find some calm. And miraculously, it works. I start taking steady deep breaths, and eventually feel it fade completely.

I peel my eyes open, squinting at first, until they focus on the cracked bathroom door, the light on the other side illuminating the steam prettily. I still frown at it. It's a stark reminder that even in a place where he feels safe Tobias' fears are still present. Even if he's not in a closet he doesn't like small space or darkness.

Two minutes after the water shuts off he stands in the doorway, toweling the last of it out of his hair. "Are you still mad at me?"

I know it's all the apology I'm going to get because if there's one thing Tobias and I both struggle with it's our pride.

I sigh and roll over, getting comfortable again. "Come lay with me, Tobias."

I hear him toss the towel away and then he's lying face-to-face with me, watching with thoughtful eyes as his hand finds them hem of my shirt under the covers and creeps up, tracing the rungs of my spine. I don't know what it is about his hand on my back, but it feels like love; feels more like love than words do.

His eyes are a curious shade of blue; deep like sapphires except for the patch of light blue in one that more closely resembles my color than Marcus'. I get the feeling he's waiting for me to say something. "What?"

His eyebrows pull together, puckering the skin between them. "Do you think you'll be as honest about what you like, as you were about what you don't like?"

I feel my cheeks blush traitorously. "I like what you're doing right now," I whisper, trying to hold his eyes with mine and not give into the embarrassment I feel at his question.

"What else?"

I give in and close my eyes; it's easier to be honest when I don't have to see his reaction. "I don't know what I like."

What did he want? A map? An instruction manual? All the times I'd touched myself in the last year... I had no idea what I was doing. I was just finding something that felt good and kept at it until I came. They were furtive, stolen moments of selfishness late in the night while my parents slept down the hall. And they were completely disconnected from anything real; I'd never been touched by any boy until Tobias.

"Do we have to talk about this?" My voice sounds tortured.

"Yes," he says simply. I feel him shift, feel his warmth as he pulls himself closer, and then his lips kissing the sensitive spot behind my ear that leaves me breathing heavy. He pulls away. "Hey... look at me." He waits until my eyes slowly open. "Are we okay?"

I trace his lips with the pad of my finger, trying to think of a way to take control of the situation just like I did in the simulation, just like I had a week ago with his hands up my shirt teasing me and making me squirm.

"You said you think about me," I say slowly, "about us... together."

"Yeah," he says warily.

"What do you think about?"

His eyes bore into mine for a moment, and then he looks down, looks away, looks anywhere but me as his cheeks burn red. He coughs slightly, " _Tris_ , I..." He sounds embarrassed, flustered, and suddenly I find that I am much braver than I was before.

"Not so easy is it?" I try to keep my voice from sounding too smug, but I can't keep the smile off my face. I hook a finger under his chin and tilt his face up, and press my lips to his. "You could always show me."

Immediately his eyes snap up to mine, jumping between them. And even though his are brimming with apprehension, there's hopefulness too. He dips back down, kissing the spot behind my ear again. "Tell me if I do something wrong."

"Okay."

I card my fingers through his hair. It's longer than it was when I met him; long enough to twist around my fingers. "I like it when you do that," I mumble through a smile. "I like it when you kiss me there and down my neck, and across my ravens."

And, obligingly, he does just that. This I like; being in control dulls my fear down to the same kind of nervousness everyone else feels at being touched intimately for the first time.

After a minute of laving at me Tobias moves his hand from where it's gripping my shoulder, down my side so that his fingers press into the spaces between my ribs, but his thumb can reach out and flick at my nipple. It's territory we've tread before, but not quite familiar yet, and it's his way of upping the stakes without pushing me too far.

But the combination of his attentive hands and lips leaves me pressing my legs together, desperate to feed the warm, throbbing ache starting in my core.

I tug him back up and kiss him, prying his lips apart with my own to deepen it. His hand grazes further down my side, so lightly that I can't stop writhing and curling into a ball as he hits a particularly ticklish spot. He smiles at me devilishly and does it again, making me gasp and giggle and slap his hand away.

And so quick I don't even realize it's happening his lips replace his hand, warming up the spot that had been chilled by my shirt twisting up as I tried to writhe out from under him in the first place. He noses at my at the edge of it, bunched up just below my breast, like he can't decide if he should move up or down.

I'm not sure either; both prospects are mortifying. If he moves up then he'll come face-to-face with my breasts; he'll see exactly how inadequate they are. If he moves down... well, there's my sharp, jutting hip bones, but the bigger problem is exactly how far down he wants to apply his lips.

Suddenly I have a whole new set of worries revolving around whether or not I'm still smooth and bare, and how I'll smell or taste; if he'll like it or not. I have the momentary urge to flee, but it's not like last time. This time I'm debating if I should run in the bathroom to lather up and carefully run a razor across my pubic bone just in case.

It's enough to make fear flutter in my stomach, but it's not enough to completely erase my desire for him. It does tell me I'm not ready for either though. I close my eyes, and behind the velvet dark of my eyelids I see him hovering over me, telling me to be brave before he injects me with the simulation serum for the first time.

_I need to take control_ , I tell myself sternly. I search around trying to find something I am comfortable with and remember last night before the party, and Tobias' hand creeping up the inside of my thigh. Just the thought of his long, delicate fingers moving closer to where I wanted them most had me breathing heavy all over again.

Before I can think about it too much, before fear or nervousness or embarrassment overtakes me, I pull his face towards mine with one hand, and grab his wrist with the other, pushing it down so that it's flush with the elastic band of my underwear. And with a gentle prod and an encouraging nod, his fingers sink beneath it.

I have to make a conscience effort to allow enough space between my legs for his hand, and my own are restless, needing something to touch or do to keep from shaking because as much as I want this I'm still nervous. His fingers are gentle and curious at first, lightly gliding up the seam of my sex because even though I hadn't notice it before I'm wet, dripping want, and I can't help blushing when he smiles knowingly.

But his touch feels electric and soon it cleanses every other thought from my mind. He presses harder, gently prodding me open with just the tips of his fingers, and my hips follow the movement of his hand without volition; instinctively trying to guide him where it feels best. I arch into his touch as he presses the length of his finger inside of me.

From somewhere far away I notice that his breathing is as heavy as mine; that his muscles are just as tightly strung as mine; that his knee is pressed just as deeply into the bed as my heels are as he hovers me.

I try to stem the flow of embarrassing noises bleeding past my lips, but it's a battle I lose when Tobias' traces up the pulsing vein in my neck with his nose and whispers, "I like listening to you; I like knowing I'm the one who's making you do it."

All I can do is nod weakly, too lost in the sensations he's creating to do anything else. For a while his slow, careful movements are enough, until they aren't. I'm close, right on the edge, but I need  _something_  to push me over, and whatever it is, he's not doing it. I squirm around, trying to find an angle that works better for me, but it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Let me," he practically begs, and even through the haze in my brain I love it, love knowing I have this power over him.

He shifts closer, inadvertently pressing down on just the right spot with the heel of his palm to make my hips buck and my back arch.

"Like that?" He asks as he does it again, making my breath catch in my throat. A second later I see his gloating grin through my slitted eyelids.

I'm not sure if I want to wipe it off his face, or just make him feel as good as he's making me feel, but either way I fill one of my hands with him. He's hot and hard and heavy even through the thin fabric of his boxers, and I know my hands are as sloppy and uncoordinated as his were last night, but I don't care.

It's an awkward angle for me, so he helpfully thrusts up roughly into my palm, mimicking the way his fingers are moving inside of me. I tilt my face into his shoulder. "Faster." It's a one word plea, and just like before he seems only happy to oblige me.

All it takes is a dozen light, quick strokes with his palm pressing down on my clit before I come undone around him. Pleasure surges out from my center, riding a wave of heat that warms me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

By the time I come back down I can barely breath and I feel the light sheen of sweat slicking my skin. "Did you...?" I pant out, but I don't get any farther than that before I feel Tobias nodding weakly against me.

He pushes himself up from where he's slumped half on top of me, and captures my lips in a kiss, his are impossibly tender as I feel his finger slide out of me, leaving a sticky brand around my hip where he holds me.

"We should have done this sooner."

He leans his forehead against mine. "Yeah," is all he can say for a while. Eventually he pulls away completely, disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. I roll over onto my side, feeling sleepy and sated, enjoying the way the sheets smell like us before I feel him get into bed behind me. His arms wrap around me and he buries his face in my hair, and the sleep that I had to fight for last night comes without effort now.

* * *

The fridge is empty, completely barren except for a half empty bottle of water sitting forlornly on the top shelf. "I think we're going to have to rejoin the world of the living," I smirk over my shoulder. I hear Tobias groan from where he's laying on the bed.

I can't blame him. We spent Saturday and Sunday not getting dressed, barely getting out of bed, and living off the meager supply of cold cuts and bottled water in the fridge. We probably both had things we should be doing, but since we didn't  _need_  to do them they were easy to ignore.

I slam the door closed and pad across the floor, climbing over Tobias to my side of the bed. He reaches out, hooking a hand around thigh to keep my leg draped across him. "Sooner we go, sooner we get back."

He turns his head and looks at me, a finger reaching up to brush across my cheek. "You know that's not true. As soon as we leave you'll run into Christina, or I'll run into Tori and Harrison, and then we'll be stuck."

"I know, but I'm starving." As if to accentuate the point my stomach rumbles hugely.

He laughs and rolls on top of me, trapping me. "Fine, but next weekend we're stuffing the fridge full of food and not leaving from Friday night to Monday morning."

Five minutes later we were walking towards the dining hall, his arm slung across my shoulders, and mine around his waist. I thought of everything the kitchen might have available tonight, if I'd rather have roast chicken and mashed potatoes or spaghetti and meatballs, but I'm so hungry it all sounds good.

In the end, the chicken won out. It takes two trays to carry all the food we grabbed: one carrying a whole chicken and a slice of chocolate cake, the other a bowl of mashed potatoes, a salad, and our drinks. This isn't the plain, Abnegation food we grew up on. The chicken is cooked until the skin is crispy and golden brown under the dusting of savory herbs covering it, and the potatoes are rich and creamy with butter and faintly taste of roasted garlic.

"I have to go back to the Hub tomorrow," Tobias says as he quickly strips the skin and meat off a chicken wing and tosses it aside. "If you need help with the simulations just ask Harrison, he used to work in the Control Room with me."

"Okay. Are the trials going to start tomorrow?" I ask around a mouthful of potatoes.

He shakes his head. "Wednesday. The corrupt Dauntless are going to be first, and there's nearly two dozen of them. It's going to take a while."

"Most of them will end up dead, won't they?"

"Depends on what crimes they confess to under the truth serum, but probably."

Before the war I would have felt some discomfort at the thought of that, but now, having seen innocent people dragged from their beds and executed in the streets, I don't. Despite being raised Abnegation I understand now that the only fitting punishment for some crimes is death. I wonder if the Abnegation jurors will feel the same way.

Miraculously, we actually get through half a meal completely uninterrupted before Zeke plops down next to us. "Tori's been looking for you," he says without preamble, and no sooner are the words out of his mouth then we're joined by her, Harrison, Bud, and Liam.

"Where the hell have you been? We thought you died."

I don't miss the look of irritation Tobias throws her as he picks at the desiccated chicken carcass between us. "You know where my apartment is, if you needed me so badly you could have come by."

She scoffs into her cup of tea. "I'm not going anywhere near that man cave you call an apartment. Besides, I didn't want to intrude on anything," she adds with a sly smile that leaves my cheeks burning.

"Yeah, man, you really need to move into the Pire with the rest of us," Zeke interjects. "We can't have one of our fearless leaders living in some shithole bachelor pad."

"Hey, _I like_  our apartment." I say defensively.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" Tobias cuts across us.

"Just finalizing our jurors," Harrison says. I don't know him well, but he always seems so steady and calm and, like Tobias, thoughtful in a way most Dauntless aren't. It's reassuring. "We decided on Zekes' mother Nahla, Liam, and Lauren."

"It's good the first two are older, they won't have to fight for the respect of the other factions." And just like that Tobias is no longer my boyfriend, but one of the leaders of our faction, making decisions that help keep the rest of us alive.

Zeke throws a roll at Tobias, which he easily knocks away. "Don't call my mom old."

"I didn't. I called her 'older'."

"Oh, well, that's okay, I guess," Zeke smiles making the rest of us laugh.

The rest of the meal passes amiably, the conversation drifting to less important topics as Tobias and I split the piece of chocolate cake between us. But just like he had anticipated by the time we get back to our apartment it's late and we're tired.

As he washes his hands I come up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face against his bare back - I've stolen his shirt again. His hands are wet where the reach behind him to hold on to me. "I love you," he says softly.

"I love you, too."


	7. Chapter 7

"What's it going to do to me?"

It's a question I've heard all day, the first one out of every trainees mouth when I present them with a vial of clear liquid and orders to drink it. I don't blame them given everything that's happened.

"Did you take the aptitude test before the war?"

"Yes."

"This is the same."

The Abnegation man prostrate in the metal chair - the same one I first faced my fears in - looks at the vial in hand with his brow furrowed. I can see a black curve peeking out of the sleeve of his shirt; a single line of a bigger tattoo.

Almost all the trainees now sport something Dauntless in their appearance; tattoos and piercings and colorful hair mixing with every color of clothing and accented in black. It never feels like an affectation though, just that they are finally showing the world who they truly were instead of subverting themselves in faction archetypes.

"What will the test show you?"

"Do you remember what we said on the first day of training? About respecting the values of other factions," I prompt when he looks confused.

"You said that selflessness, kindness, intelligence, and honesty all required bravery; that each of those virtues had a place in the Dauntless way of life."

"That's what we're testing. How you take those things and apply them."

If he was Erudite and not Abnegation his next question would be what he has to do, or not do, to end the simulation, but because he's not he takes the vial from me and swallows its contents without another word.

A few hours later they've all gone through the simulation and I'm reviewing the footage and making notes when I hear the door open behind me, and a second later Christina plops into the metal chair.

"Where were you this morning? I was freaking out; I thought I'd have to put the trainees through the simulations and I don't know how to do that."

"Sorry, I overslept."

If you considered fooling around with Tobias 'oversleeping'.

"You're lying. And even if you weren't biting your cheek - which you are, by the way - you were too flushed and happy looking when you finally did show up to have 'overslept'. So...?" She draws the word out so it's long and teasing, but leaves it hanging there full of expectation.

I grit my teeth. "So... what?"

She rolls her eyes. "Have you gotten over your fear of intimacy?"

"Where were you Friday night? I didn't see you at Uriah's birthday party," I counter, trying to change the subject.

"I'll tell you if you tell me," she quips. Christina was never one to be easily dissuaded.

"Fine," I huff. "We've fooled around, but haven't, you know... done it yet," I say awkwardly. My cheeks burn and I press my hands to them, trying to chase it away with the chill of my fingers.

"Really?" She says wonderingly.

"Really, and don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like there's something wrong with me. I don't tease you over being scared of moths, do I?"

"I just don't get it. I mean you like him, he likes you... so what's to be scared of?"

"Well, I don't 'get' whatever it is you're doing with Uriah," I snap. "And as far as what there's to be scared of... You mean aside from the fact that I look more like a boy than a girl, and I've never done this before, and have no idea what to do with him or what he wants; I hardly even know what I like."

Christina watches me with wide eyes, mouth slackening into an open 'O' as I bluster on. "So yeah, aside from all that, there's  _nothing_  to be scared of, right?"

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing, and my anger crumbles under it. "I'm sorry," I mumble from my hiding spot behind my hands. "This is making me crazy. After everything we've been through, to be scared of this... it's getting better, but we still haven't had sex despite what everyone thinks," I finish, remembering Tori's knowing smile and teasing words at dinner.

"I was babysitting," Christina says quietly from next to me. "Cara was in the midst of some sort of breakthrough in getting the Erudite's long-lasting transmitters out of us, so I was watching Elia. I got to the party after you left." It's her 'I'm sorry', and I'm grateful for it. "Not that I'm any kind of expert, but can I give you some advice?"

"Okay."

"Nobody knows what they like at first. Just like we had to learn how to shoot guns and throw knives, we have to learn how to be good in bed too. If you two don't talk about it it's just going to be awful forever, and what's the point of that?"

"Is that what you're doing with Uriah most nights?"

"Yes, it is." For the first time her voice is hard. "Would it be better if I spent my nights being angry or mourning something that barely, never existed?"

"Do you talk to him about what you like?"

Her eyes, which were clouding over with anger, clear and a smile twists up her lips. "He's really good at following directions."

A little hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat. "I'm not sure I need to know this, Christina."

"It's not like I'm telling you what he likes," she dismisses my comment with a flippant wave of her hand. "I'm just saying, we try new things and talk about what we like and don't like. Maybe it's easier because I was Candor and never learned to be dishonest, or maybe because I don't love him and it's just for fun, but even if I wasn't and it wasn't, it would still be bad if we weren't trying."

I sigh. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not, but," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "most guys dig it when you tell them if they're doing something right."

Immediately I think back to Tobias telling me he liked listening to me, and my cheeks flush for an entirely different reason.

"C'mon," she says as she stands up, "we've got trainees to look after. You know, they're not nearly as terrorized as we were; I think we're doing them a disservice by not being as intimidating as your boyfriend was." She shakes her head, laughing to herself. "You let him throw knives at your head without blinking an eye, but he tries to sleep with you like any other normal teenage boy and you panic."

"Oh, shut up," I smile and playfully knock my shoulder into hers as we walk down the hallway. I chew on my lip debating my next question. "Does it hurt? The first time, I mean. I've heard it does," I mumble.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Well, if they're really small," she wiggles her fingers at me as if to demonstrate, a full tilt smile splitting her face. "Then no, it doesn't"

" _Oh my God_ , forget I asked." Her laugh follows me down the hall as I race away from her and towards the training rooms.

xxxx

We all have nightmares. All of us. I dream about Will and my mother and father. I dream about being held captive at Erudite headquarters and Caleb. One time I even dreamed out Eric killing children I couldn't save. The worst ones though, are the ones where I dream of losing Tobias; the last person I love.

My eyes peel open at the sound of our apartment door closing. I don't even remember falling asleep. I roll over and breath out a sigh of relief when I see Tobias cast in shadows and light as he walks across the room, toeing out of his shoes, kicking out of his jeans.

He and Zeke had gotten back from the Hub hours ago, but he had been... I didn't know where. Zeke was the one who told me that Tobias had gotten dragged into the middle of an argument between his parents, in front of everyone, as they hashed out the last minute details before the trials started the day after tomorrow. I did think about seeking him out, but if he wanted to talk he knew where to find me; he didn't need me to coddle him, the same way I didn't need him to coddle me.

He lifts the blue quilt up and slips under it carefully. I reach out touch his face, the stubble of his cheeks bristling against the pads of my fingers. "I didn't mean to wake you," he breathes out.

"It's okay, I was having a nightmare anyway," I say, my voice thick with sleep.

He shifts around, and a moment later I feel his fingers slipping through my hair where it's messy and bunched at the top of my head. "Go back to sleep, I'll fight them off."

"Who's going to fight off yours?" I ask around a yawn.

"You, of course." His free hand finds mine in the dark and our fingers twist and twine together. "Can I show you something or are you too tired?"

"Do I have to get out of bed?"

His silent chuckle shakes the bed. "No." He reaches over me and turns on the bedside lamp before pulling me up and turning around. It takes my eyes a moment to focus and my brain to clear the last fog of sleep, but when I do I see a raven - identical to mine - rising out of the Dauntless flames that lick up the sides of his neck like a phoenix.

Tobias has never been one for romantic gestures - it took Candor truth serum for me to understand the depth of his devotion -, but the sight of my mark on him makes my throat constrict with emotion. In this world where we grew up learning the mantra, faction before blood; where even though our families shouldn't have mattered, they did; he put me above everything else.

"It's where everyone can see it," I choke out.

"I have no reason to hide you," he says simply. I don't miss the irony. One of the first things he did when we got back to the Pit was hack the cities central computers as well as Abnegation's and what was left of Erudite's. For all intents and purposes 'Beatrice Prior' was dead. There were only a handful of people who knew my true identity.

I feel a tear slide down my cheek, and then another, and another; the only relief to the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. My sight blurs and I feel rather see him turn around, but then his arms are around me, pulling me close.

By the time he lays us back down and turns the light off my eyes are dry, and when I kiss Tobias I feel his lips turn up in a smile against mine. I want to ask him what happened today with Marcus and Evelyn and how that led to the tattoo, but I don't want to ruin his moment of happiness, or mine, so settle myself against him and fall almost instantly back to sleep.

* * *

My finger hovers over the trigger of the rifle nested against my shoulder. I take a deep breath and hear Tobias' voice in my head count to three. I pull the trigger, and a hole appears on the target at the other end of the room. It's up and to the right of the bullseye. I frown, readjusting slightly so my next shot will hopefully hit lower down and to the left.

 _One. Two. Three... pull._  The rapport echoes around the room, and another hole appears, grazing the edge of the bullseyes.  _Better, but not perfect. Again._

My stomach still lurches when I pick up a handgun, but spending my lunchtime most days learning how to use a rifle has helped, and I'm getting much better at it. I can actually fire it without breaking down, and I'm hitting what I'm aiming at, though I'm still not as good as Tobias.

I shake out my shoulders and aim again, but before I can do more than that the door opens behind me, and I look over my shoulder to find Harrison nervously watching me. "You have a visitor."

"Who...," I trail off in confusion.

"An Abnegation girl, says her name is Susan." I fall into step behind him as he leads me out of the Pit and up to the Pire. "This isn't good, Tris; no one's supposed to know you're here."

"I know, but Tobias can't erase me from people's memories as easily as he erased me from the computers around the city. And the Abnegation have every reason to keep me alive."

She was waiting for me in the same room the Dauntless leaders had used to watch us go through our fear landscapes. A plain cardboard box is resting on the battered table next to her. Harrison closes the door behind us, but I can see him standing guard outside it through the window. Susan nudges the box towards me. "Your family's old house is going to be used by the factionless; I thought you might want the few things your parents left."

"Thank you, Susan." I know it won't be much, but it's nice to have something to remember them by.

She looks down. "There's some of Tobias' things in there too, from Marcus' house. I know you and he are... close."

My hand stops in midair, hanging in space a few inches above the box. "Was all this Evelyn's idea?"

"No." Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. "It was Marcus'. And," she pulls her hand out of her pocket, "he sent this as well."

I take the slip of folded paper from the palm of her hand gingerly, as if it might bite me. It contains a simple map, tomorrows date, and a time. "Tell him no," I snap.

"He said you'd say that. He told me to tell you to think about it; he will be there regardless."

"What's this about, Susan?"

She shakes her head, giving me a polite, tight-lipped smile; an Abnegation smile. "I don't know. He said to give it to you and to tell you to think about it when you said 'no'."

I sigh and scratch at my hairline. I don't want to talk to Marcus, and despite what my former faction thinks he's not a good person, but I can't explain all of that to Susan.

"I have to get back." She sticks her hand out awkwardly, and when we shake it's jerky and unnatural. "It was nice seeing you again, Tris."

xxxx

The blue glass statue, stacks of school papers, and books - both mine and Tobias' - are littered across the top of our bed. He has awful handwriting. How his teacher could decipher it enough to give him a grade is a mystery. His lowercase 'j' looks more like a 'y'; a little curl on top and a straight line down.

But it makes me smile to think of him at twelve or thirteen, sounding older than his years as he writes about the history of our city, even though the thought that he was being terrorized by his father itches at the back of my brain.

I'm so lost in the fantasy of it I don't register the commotion in the hallway until there's frantic banging on the door that sends a shiver up my spine and makes me clutch the papers in my hand so tightly my knuckles turn white. There are some sounds that convey panic and distress better than words ever could. The frantic rap on my door is one of them.

Zeke is on the other side, bloodstained and eyes wide. A strangled sob works it's way up my throat and past my lips before I have time to clap my hand over my mouth and stop it. Every single nightmare I've ever had about losing Tobias flashes through my head as we sprint hand-in-hand to the infirmary.

The hallways seem endless, and fear pulses through me, sharp and bitter, twisting my stomach and making my pulse pound in my ears so loudly I can hardly make out what Zeke is saying about how they were attacked on the train and Tobias was thrown out. By the time he pushes the small crowd of people surrounding a doctor in a white coat out of my way I'm positive he's going to tell me Tobias is dead or dying.

He stops mid-sentence and looks at me questioningly. "You're the girlfriend?"

I nod because I can't speak. I'm too busy trying to steady my breathing so I don't throw up on his shoes to risk opening my mouth. I only take in some of what he says. Words like 'concussion' and 'dislocated shoulder' stick out, always accompanied by the word 'severe'. But he doesn't have my full attention until the words 'brain bleeding' come out his mouth, and I almost lose my battle with keeping my dinner in my stomach.

"In a few minutes he'll have an MRI, and as long as there's no bleeding on the brain or other injury then we'll deal with his shoulder. I suspect-"

"What if he has bleeding?" I interrupt.

"There are a variety of treatments depending on the severity; if it's minor we'll treat it with medications and monitor it here. If it's severe or doesn't respond to other treatments we'll have to operate to relieve the pressure so there's no brain damage. Now, as I was saying, if his brain looks okay then we'll take him to X-Ray to make sure nothing is broken and then an ultrasound to see the extent, if any, of soft tissue damage."

"I need to see him." I need to touch him, to tell him I love him; to know he's going to be okay.

"He's in and out of consciousness-"

I take a step toward him, sizing him up. I could hit him in any one of three places and drop him to the floor even if he does have more than a foot and a hundred pounds on me. " _I need to see him_."

He looks at me warily and then steps aside. "You have two minutes."

I'm through the swinging doors behind him before he even finishes the sentence. I don't have far to look; Tobias is in the first bed. His skin - where it's not black and blue or bloody - is as pale as the white sheet he lays on. My eyes flick over him, quickly taking in the bruises and gashes, the way his shoulder is contorted painfully - if he wasn't passed out he'd probably be screaming in pain.

One side of his face is coated in a sheet of blood and as I get closer I realize it's because the skin must have been scraped off as he slid across the pavement. I lean down, pressing my cheek to his uninjured one, inhaling the scent that is uniquely him - even if it's tainted with the rusty tang of blood - and whispering _I love you_  in his ear.

"We need to move him now," says a soft feminine voice behind me. When I straighten up I come face-to-face with the same nurse that handed Christina and I perfectly innocent looking white paper bags full of birth control and condoms.

"Is he going to die?" My hands are shaking so bad I wrap them around my elbows, hunching in on myself.

"No, I don't think so," she smiles at me kindly. "You can see him for longer once we know what's going on."

I shuffle back out to the waiting room, ignoring the gathering crowd and leaning against the wall. Tori and Harrison aren't far away, badgering Zeke for details despite the fact that he's injured too. I'm too numb to take part in the discussion, but there's a part of my brain cataloging everything they say, spinning with possibilities.

There are groups of factionless outside Evelyn's control, I suppose. But some of the traitor Dauntless or Erudite could have gotten away and tried to exact revenge by killing Tobias. They both offer logical explanations. But Marcus and Evelyn keep turning up in my thoughts like bad cards. Marcus wants to see me, he sends Susan on the same day Tobias is attacked. He and Evelyn fought yesterday, and Tobias was involved. Could he be exacting revenge? Or was he trying to warn me something might happen? They're both so loathsome I can't rule either possibility out.

I feel anger bubble up inside of me, and I push myself away from the wall and out of the infirmary before anyone can notice I'm gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a not very smutty update. Trust me, we'll get back to that soon enough. So... who attacked Tobias? Anyone want to guess? And thank you everyone who's left reviews; they make my day!


	8. Chapter 8

I know - have known - that the city is unsafe. We travel in groups and have armed guards outside the Pire every time we expect food deliveries. I know it's dangerous, but it's easy to forget that. In the Fog of War you expect tragedy, but when it intrudes into our lives in the moments we least expect it it's worse.

You're not on your guard for it when you're smiling to yourself imagining your boyfriend as a lanky schoolboy clothed in grey with awful handwriting and ideas bigger than he is. The knowledge that while I was lost in thoughts of a history that was more fantasy than reality while he fought for his life stabs at me.

The need to hurt whoever tried to kill him burns in my stomach, unfurls through my veins until it heats every part of me. I wish I could give in to it instead of sitting impotently in this sterile white waiting room. But my departure wasn't as unnoticed as I thought it was; I barely got five feet out the door before Zeke clamped his arms around me and drug me back in. If I was bigger my kicking and screaming might have been less of a petulant temper-tantrum and more of a threat.

Tori's hand wrapped around mine feels restraining, not comforting. It's the same way Uriah's arm feels around my shoulders as I sit sullenly between them; loose, but ready to hold me in place if I try and make a break for it again. I stare across from me at Zeke and Harrison until they become blurs against the wall behind them. I can't take part in their obsessive discussion; one topic leading to another, leading to another until they end up back where they started, over and over again, ad nauseum.

They easily dismiss the idea that the attackers could have been traitor Dauntless; they would have been recognized. No one knows for sure if any Erudite escaped; destroying their computer system destroyed their members list as well, so there was no way of checking. They could easily have disguised themselves as factionless and attacked Tobias in order to provoke a war between us and the real factionless.

It would have been nice to have a clear enemy to exact revenge on, just like Tobias had Peter and Al and Drew when they attacked me. If what he felt is anything like what I'm feeling it's a wonder he didn't kill Drew; I don't know how he stopped.

Even the good news that Tobias didn't have any bleeding or swelling in his brain doesn't make it easier to sit here and do nothing but wait. Maybe once I can finally talk to him, do more than try and reassure myself that he's alive, it will wane. I doubt it. Dauntless and Abnegation taught me actions, not stillness are the way to master my emotions.

Christina breezes through the door carrying a mug and a muffin. Uriah gives up his seat to her without question. The coffee is weak and watery, but I drink to please her, although consuming anything solid is so unappealing I can't force the muffin down. Her presence does comfort me though.

The doctor comes through the swinging doors again, and this time I remember to look at his name badge when he stands in front of me. It says _Dr. Braydon_  in neat block script. "We were able to manipulate his arm back into his shoulder without too much trouble. He'll have to keep it in a sling for a few weeks, but as long as he's careful with it, it will heal perfectly."

He has a stud pierced into the skin between his lower lip and his chin. As he talks it bobs up and down, catching the light. "The effects of the concussion will probably last ten to fourteen days; maybe a little longer because of the severity of it." He hands me a sheet of paper packed with information about physical and emotional effects to expect, and instructions for what to do once he's released.

Christina leans over and reads it. "Crankiness, tearfulness, and 'displays of emotion inappropriate to the situation'? And Four was such a happy-go-lucky guy before he was thrown from a train," she deadpans, eliciting stifled guffaws from everyone except the doctor who gives her an annoyed huff.

"Two of you," he eyes our group of half a dozen, "can see him at a time." I don't know who I expect to join me, but Tori is the one who follows the doctor and I. Her hypocrisy is infuriating. She, more than anyone, should understand my desire to exact revenge on someone. The fact that she sent Zeke after me feels like a betrayal.

I check on the doorstep, my heart in my throat as I take in the scene before me. Someone has cleaned Tobias up, but his face is still bloody and raw on one side, glistening under a thick coat of salve. His arm is resting across his bare chest, which is covered in dusky bruises, but at least his shoulder is no longer grotesquely contorted. Still, he looks frail under the white sheets swaddling him, and I hate it; I hate seeing him looking so...  _weak_.

His eyes peel open slowly as he feels my hand wrap around his own. His knuckles are already starting to scab over, and for some reason it's that, that makes tears prickle my eyes. He fought back. And lost. It's naive and childish, but Tobias has always seemed invincible to me. But the boy before me isn't and it's a hard pill to swallow.

His fingers flex around mine when I lean forward and kiss his forehead gently, a few tears sliding into his hair. I don't care that Tori's here, intruding on a moment that should be only for Tobias and I. "Is Zeke okay?" All the times he scolded me for worry about others before myself and the first question out of his mouth is whether or not his best friend is okay. I almost laugh.

"He's fine. Nothing more than bruises. Tori can go get him from the waiting room if you want to talk to him," I reassure him. The blood staining his clothes was Tobias'.

Tobias shifts, looking over my shoulder. "Hi, Tori."

"Don't 'Hi, Tori' me, Four. What the Hell were you thinking riding back on the train just the two of you? How many times have we told the Dauntless to travel in groups of six or more, and you can't-"

"Is this really the time?" I snap, interrupting her yelling only to have her turn on me.

"Yes, it's the time! I've got you, ready to run off on a suicide mission to do God knows what when we don't even know who we should be running at, and him getting himself thrown off trains and nearly killed because he can't even follow his own advice. And if you  _had_  slipped away-"

" _Do not_  lecture me about revenge," I say, my voice low and deadly. "I'm not the one who ignored all the warning signs with the factionless because I was so intent on it." It's a low blow I know, but I'm past caring, especially if she's going to rat me out.

"Jesus, enough!" Tobias interrupts, sitting up slightly. "Go get Zeke and Harrison!" Tori gives him one contemptuous look and storms out. I open my mouth to ask about Marcus and Evelyn's fight, to tell him about Susan, but he speaks before I can. "Do you remember what I said after Shauna was shot?"

Of course I do. It's not everyday your boyfriend tells you that if you 'senselessly' throw your life in danger he'll break up with you. "Yes." My muscles lock down, bracing for impact even though the only thing he's throwing are words.

"I meant it. If you're going to run off and do something stupid every time something happens, we're done."

I should shrug it off, he's injured and anger is a side effect of concussions. But I can't. My knuckles are white where they're gripping the railing of his hospital bed. "Maybe you should," I grit out, "if you're going to threaten me with it every time I 'do something stupid'." His eyes snap up to mine; whatever he was expecting me to say, it wasn't that. "Don't throw it in my face as a way to get me to behave myself like I'm an errant child. And in case you haven't noticed I don't have the market cornered on stupid behavior tonight."

Our argument is cut short by Tori's return. Tobias' eyes roam over Zeke, reassuring himself that he's okay."What happened? I don't really remember... I just have flashes of stuff." I can tell it frustrates him, not being able to rely on his memory.

Zeke launches into the story again, and as soon as he's done Tori and Harrison fill the silence with the same surmises they killed time with while we waited. Halfway through their recitation the doctor comes by and tries to throw  _someone_  out; he did say only two visitors after all. I stand to leave, but Tobias' hand holds me in place, and before the doctor can do more than make empty threats Harrison ushers him out in the hallway to reason with him that as a leader the 'two visitors' rule doesn't really apply here.

"What did that Abnegation girl want today, Tris?" He asks when he comes back in.

I glare at him on the other side of the bed. I wanted to talk to Tobias about this privately, but I guess after our faction is attacked nothing's private. "Marcus wants to see me." I pull the note out of my pocket and pass it to him.

"No," Tobias spits out.

"I think she should go," Harrison says reasonably. "He might know something about who attacked you."

"He doesn't."

"You don't know that. He sent this message before you were attacked; he could have been trying to warn us."

"He wasn't."

"Okay, then what do you think this is about?" Harrison asks evenly, his voice as impassive as his gaze.

"He wants safe haven here; Evelyn has made the Abnegation sector... unsafe for him. Or so he believes."

"Can you blame her?" Tori scoffs.

I can't. I doubt anyone else can either. But I keep my mouth shut. I need Tori and Harrison to reason with Tobias, to at least give the appearance that my desire to see Marcus is something I'm doing in service to our safety and not my desire for revenge. I don't like manipulating people, and I like it even less when it's Tobias, but sometimes unpleasant things necessary.

"I told him everyone was welcome here as long as they agreed to our rules, everyone but him."

Harrison nods in agreement. "Be that as it may, I still think Tris should go, and I will go to the Abnegation sector and talk to Evelyn. We can't rule anything out, and if this is Erudite escapees trying to destabilize the new government other leaders may be in danger too; we have to warn them. Tori?" He looks at her questioningly.

"I agree."

"Tris?"

I shrug. "If you think it's a good idea," I say noncommittally.

He finally looks at Tobias, seeking his assent. He reaches out for the slip of paper Marcus sent me, his eyes scan quickly over the short message before landing on the map at the bottom. "This is in part of the city above the Hancock Building; totally abandoned. Are we sure she's not walking into a trap for the good of her faction?" His voice is terse, belying the frustration he feels at being overruled.

"No, we don't."

"Then she's not going alone. I want Zeke and Uriah with her at all times, and I want at least four others there ahead of them, scouting." He looks at me. "If anything looks suspicious to them you're coming back here without argument, understood?"

I can't help bristling at his tone, but I nod in agreement all the same. The conversation shifts to arranging the details of my trip. Apparently if Tobias can't stop it he'll settle for micro-managing every detail. He reels off the names of the people he wants scouting, and I won't be taking the train or walking there; I will go in one of the cars we took from the Erudite.

When the others leave the silence between us is heavy under the weight of things left unsaid, of the fight left unfinished. He leans back wearily against the pillows, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "If I go to sleep will you be here when I wake up?"

He's still angry, and so am I, but if Tobias has taught me anything it's that you can be angry at someone and love them and ache for them all at the same time. "Yes."

* * *

I wake to the sound of Tobias retching. Before I can do more than gape at him where he's hunched over dry heaving into a bag a nurse bustles in and injects a sickly yellow medication into his IV line.

"Dizziness and nausea are side effects of the concussion," she says. All I can do is nod dumbly in response. Within ten minutes Tobias is leaning back against his pillows, color returning to his cheeks as he sucks on ice chips.

My muscles are sore from falling asleep curled in the chair next to his bed, though I've only been out for a few hours. "Why don't you go back to the apartment? Sleep for a few hours. I can send Zeke or Uriah to come get you when we all meet later."

"Are you sure?" I don't really want to be away from him, but there isn't anything I can do for him either.

"Sleep, Tris."

I push myself to my feet and kiss his forehead again. "Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"A shirt would be nice." He's still bare from the waist up. "Later though; go sleep." He waits until I get to the door to speak again. "Tris?" I turn to face him. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

The Pit is deserted as I walk through it, the sound water crashing through the Chasm echoing harshly without the softening effects of hundreds of voices mixing with it. I force myself into the shower, reasoning that if I do it before I fall asleep my hair will be dry by the time I wake up. By the time I get out I don't even have the energy to change. I curl up under the covers still in a towel, curling into a ball under our quilt to chase away the chill.

Usually it's hard for me to fall asleep without the warmth of Tobias, the weight of his arms around me, but this time it feels like I've barely closed my eyes before someone's banging on the door. I stagger over to it, nearly losing the towel along the way. "What?" I ask through the door, unwilling to open it in my nearly naked state.

"Tris?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Oh, yeah," I hear an embarrassed laugh on the other side and realize it belongs to Uriah. "Come on, we've got to go back up to the infirmary."

"Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, there's a meeting though and if we don't hurry we'll be late."

"Okay," I scrub at my face with my free hand, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. "Okay, give me a minute."

I'm awkwardly hopping up and down on one foot as I pull my boot onto the other when I open the door to see Uriah smiling at me. The Pit is humming with life, everyone on their way to breakfast or their jobs as we wind our way through. I wonder if Tori and Harrison are going to tell them about what happened to Tobias; I don't hear anyone gossiping about it as I expected to.

"I don't think this is going to be as fun as going to Amity. But, still... I love bodyguarding you, Tris, we get to do all kinds of cool spy stuff." Uriah says good naturedly once we gain some privacy in the hallway to the infirmary.

I stop dead in my tracks. " _What?_ "

His expression is a curious mix of guilt and anxiety, like a kid knowing they've been caught doing something they shouldn't be. "It's just... Tobias was worried because you still couldn't shoot...," he splutters. "And, he's just trying to keep you safe, Tris," he finishes in a plea.

I push past him, the swinging door to the infirmary banging loudly as it smacks into the wall I throw it open so forcefully. Uriah's still babbling behind me when I'm stopped by a wall of bodies crowding around Tobias' bed. I prod someone I don't know out of my way with a finger in the back, too angry to be courteous.

There's a map spread out on the bed over his legs. An older woman whose hands are covered in intricate tattoos is pointing at a group of intersecting lines on the map while the other presses to her ear, and I hear the tell-tale crackle of a radio.

"It's an abandoned church," she says as her finger moves across the map. "Houses, here and here; old storefronts across the street. They haven't seen anyone since they got there." She holds her hand up for silence, and the air shifts tense in the little room. "There's a balcony." Her voice is slow and careful, trying to relay what she's hearing without missing what she's being told. "Jackson says he can stay there all day if he needs to."

"Good. I want the others at the back and each side of the building; Bud will be out front with the car and can guard the entrance," Tobias says. He sounds like a general ordering his troops, which is pretty much accurate, I guess. He nods to me as I hand him the shirt. He gently puts his injured arm through one of the sleeves and then carefully pulls it over his head, smoothing it out with one hand once it's on.

"Bodyguards? Really?" I snap once everyone else files out.

"I'm sorry, it's just slipped out," Uriah says apologetically from where he's hovering nervously in the doorway.

Tobias looks at me, his eyes hard and defiant, challenging. "Yes, bodyguards. I'm not sending you out there into what could possibly be a trap unprotected."

"Is that why Zeke and Uriah were with me when I went to Amity? Were you worried about a trap then, too?"

"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?" He snaps at Uriah. "And I'm not going to fight with you about this, Tris. If you don't like it, don't go. End of discussion."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it's is! Why can't you let me keep you safe?"

"Tris, we have to go," Uriah says. When I make no move to leave I feel his hand wrap around my arm and tug me towards the door. "C'mon, we have to go." Tobias and I glare at each other a minute longer before I turn away and march out the door. I hate fighting with him.

xxxx

The Erudite cars offer a much smoother ride than the old clunker Marcus, Christina, and I took to Amity. They glide easily over potholes and broken patches of asphalt, swinging smoothly around gaping holes that expose sewer lines. The interior is plush and padded; the seat covered in soft fabric and as comfortable as any couch or armchair I've sat on. It's quiet too; hybrid engines and solar panels whispering instead of the rackety banging of a regular combustion engine.

Quiet enough that Zeke barely has to raise his voice above a whisper as he sits next to me, telling me about what it was like in the days after I sacrificed myself to the Erudite. Tobias and I have never really talked about his mother, certainly not how her 'death' and subsequent resurrection affected him. After listening to Zeke I wonder if it didn't leave deeper, longer lasting scars than anything Macrus could inflict with a belt, and my leaving him opened them up again in a way that has yet to heal.

It's warm inside, but when I press my hand to the window it's cold. I see the Ferris wheel Tobias and I climbed at Navy Pier from a distance; the memories make me smile. The further north was travel the more deteriorated the city outside the window becomes. Houses made of wood are overgrown with vegetation; nature reclaiming what belonged to it in the first place.

The building Bud stops in front of is unremarkable. Without a word Zeke and Uriah exit and stand on the sidewalk, waiting for me. "Where did you learn to drive?" I ask him. It's inconsequential, but I'm curious.

"I was Amity before I transferred to Dauntless."

"Oh," is all I can say.

The air is sharp and bitter with cold, the wind stinging my face and making my hair whip around. It's a relief to get inside. Marcus is sitting halfway to the alter, placidly staring at the crumbling cross above it.

"I'm glad you decided to come," he says without turning to face me where I sit, a few pews behind him.

"I was asked to come by our leadership. There was an attack last night, some of our members were hurt."

"Evelyn?"

"If we knew it was her, why would I be here?"

He turns to face me, seeing Zeke and Uriah for the first time. "Is that why you're not alone?"

"Yes."

"I don't know anything about it."

I stare at him narrowly, looking for a tick that might give away a lie, but I see nothing. I also don't feel as though I'm being manipulated as I so often have around Tobias' parents. "Then what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Tobias... he listens to you."

"If this is about Evelyn threatening you, don't even bother. You are not welcome in Dauntless. And I am not your friend; do not ask me for favors."

"Part of your factions bargain with the factionless was that they get control over the Erudite data, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you never wonder why?" His voice is smug with the knowledge that we didn't; that our agreement with the factionless was in many ways rash and ill-planned.

"It wasn't my place to wonder. I was not, and am still not, a leader."

"Did anyone?"

I stare at him coldly. "If you're going to play games we're done here."

He holds his hand up placatingly. "They didn't destroy all the data. They wanted something very specific and they got it."

"And you're not going to tell me what it was, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I need safe haven for myself and the Abnegation that remain loyal to our founding principles. In exchange for that I will tell you what I know."

"Was your original faction Candor, Marcus?"

"No, Erudite. And I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"You remind me of someone I met who used to be Candor," I shrug. "He believed in only doing things for other people when they could do something for him, or when he owed them a debt. I think you two would get along very well."

"I don't like going against my Abnegation principles, but times change and survival is more important right now."

"Then why don't you go to Amity?"

"Because they can't protect us."

"You mean they can't protect  _you_."

"No,  _us_. If Evelyn was persecuting us because of... personal reasons, I would leave." A memory of Johanna Reyes tickles the back of my brain and brings a smile to my face. "What?"

"Sometimes the people we oppress become mightier than we would like," I quote her as accurately as I can remember.

"I don't know what you've been told-"

"You're a liar, Marcus. How do I even know you have anything to bargain with?"

"I told you the truth about the information the Erudite stole from us."

"I need something better than your assurances this time because you're right, times do change. If you want our protection you're going to have to share what you know first." As I watch his face hardens into a mask and I wonder if he's thinking about hurting me the same way he used to hurt Tobias. "You don't like it, do you? Not being the one in control." I rise to my feet, Zeke and Uriah mimicking my actions. "You know where to find us if you change your mind." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah... yeah. I didn't tell you who did it. I do know, but this chapter got long, and I'm toying with the idea of keeping it ambiguous. I think some things are better left up to the reader. We'll see :)


	9. Chapter 9

When I got back Tobias was sitting up in bed. He looked good, more like himself despite the sling holding his arm in place so his shoulder can heal. One side of his face was covered in scabs though, brown and crusty instead of red and livid with fresh blood.

But the longer we sit and talk the more terse his voice becomes and I can tell - even if no one else can - that he's tired, and sick of being around people; sick of listening to Tori and Harrison talk about Marcus and Evelyn and what we've found out, which feels like next to nothing right now. He might be sick of me too, I'm not sure.

Tori rises to her feet, pulling a set of keys out of her pocket and tosses them on the bed. "Since I know you won't stay in bed no matter how emphatically the doctor insists on it I had Tris' grommets and Christina move your things to an apartment in the Pire. You're on the floor above the Control Room. At least this way you won't fall into the Chasm if you have dizzy spell while you're working instead of resting."

I see the muscles in Tobias' jaw jump and twitch at Tori's misguided maternal instincts, but he doesn't say anything. Once she and Harrison are out the door he sags, holding his head in his hands. I realize now he was putting on an act for them; one he can't or won't put on for me, though it clearly wasn't fooling Tori.

I reach out timidly, laying my hand on his good shoulder. That he doesn't throw it off I take as a good sign. He swings his legs off the bed, and fits me between them, holding me close. Even though it's only been a few days since we could do this it still feels like coming home after a long journey. It feels like being whole again, like being able to breathe again. "I don't want to fight," I whisper.

"Me either."

"Lets go home, Tobias."

I feel rather than hear a chuckle rattle through him. "I'm not sure I can make it that far."

Just because he's hurt doesn't mean he needs me to coddle him. But I do want to take care of him, if he'll let me. "I'll help you." He peeks at me, and I can tell he hates the idea of needing help with anything, but he's in no position to argue.

Once he's got his shoes on, and I shove the bottles of medication on the bedside table in my pockets, I loop an arm around his waist, prodding him to his feet. With his arm around my shoulders we look like any other Dauntless couple as long as no one looks at us too closely.

Most everyone is at dinner already as we cross the glass floor, but we meet Cara and Ellia and exchange polite 'hello's. "What's the deal with them?" Tobias asks once we're alone again, a tiny chime sounding in the elevator as we pass each floor in the Pire. "That's not her daughter, is it?"

"Boyfriend's sister. He and his family fled with Cara, but they were killed by traitor Dauntless. She tried to save him, but he told her to run, to keep Ellia safe."

"People shouldn't have to make those choices." Tobias' voice is fierce and hard.

"I know." A floor above the Control Room the doors slide open. The hallway is dingy and unremarkable, lit by the same blue orbs that light the hallways in the Pit. Our apartment is at the end. "Are you going to be okay with the height?" I ask as we walk.

"As long as I'm not close enough to the windows to see the ground I should be." When the door swings open my breath catches in my throat. The view is beautiful, but Tobias eyes the floor to ceiling windows warily.

There are three different types of apartments in the Pire. We're in the smallest kind, designed for singles and childless couples, but it's still much larger than the apartment we had. The wall opposite the front door is made entirely of glass. There's a kitchen with a breakfast bar built into one side, as well as a closet with a washer, dryer, and shelves for storage. The wall opposite the kitchen is encumbered only by a door I know leads to the bedroom, and a fireplace.

"C'mon." I lead him into the bedroom. There's a pile of boxes in one corner, but someone - Christina, probably - has made the bed. He lets out a little moan of pleasure once he lays down on top of the blue quilt. "Better?"

"Much."

I move to the foot of the bed and start untying the laces of his shoes. " _Tris_."

I ignore his weary, irritated tone, and pull off one shoe then the other. I crawl up the bed and lay facing him. My rebuttal is one word -  _family_. I trace my fingers along the uninjured side of his face, feeling the rough stubble of a day old beard since he hasn't been able to shave; the soft, delicate skin of his eyelids. "Sleep, I'll unpack." I press my fingers to his lips in lieu of a kiss. He nips at them and nods, tilting his face into the pillow.

By the time the sun goes down the only box left untouched is the one Susan brought. I bring it over to the bed, carefully setting the blue glass statue on the floor while I rummage through the papers, seeking the ones at the bottom, the ones I hadn't gotten to before Zeke banged on the door the night before.

I pull out a manila folder, and inside is my birth certificate, Caleb's birth certificate, and my parents marriage certificate. It's the latter that holds my attention.

It's simple, of course, spelling out modest promises to love, honor, and cherish. It's no different from hundreds of other Abnegation marriage certificates, except for the signatures. My mother's, full of beautiful curves. My father's simple and strong, except for the 'r' at the end of Prior so slight as to be a nearly indistinguishable bump. My uncle's - who served as witness -, a sprawling scrawl.

It's the most personal thing I have of them anymore. My eyes devour it hungrily. I analyze every feature, though there are few. I never knew my parents birthdays, but they're here, along with their government identification numbers. I count in my head, figuring out their exact age since I never knew it before, and then how old they were when they married, when Caleb and I were born.

"What's that?" Tobias asks sleepily.

I pass him the folder and his eyes quickly scan the documents it contains. "How did you get these?"

"Marcus. He sent Susan over with them as an excuse to give me his note. Your mother's statue and all your school papers are here too."

"I don't want them," he says dismissively.

"Are you sure?" Abnegation frowned on keepsakes, but the ones that were allowed Tobias kept. Obviously he saved them for a reason.

His eyes shift around the same way they were at the bottom of the Chasm the night I came back from Amity. I know he's not telling me something. And I don't know if he ever plans on telling me. He hands me back the folder and I can't help fondly brushing my fingers over my parents signatures. "You miss them."

I look up to see Tobias watching me, his eyes tender. "Every day."

"Tell me about them."

"They were both transfers. My mother from Dauntless - she was Divergent -, and my father and uncle from Erudite; their family was friends with Jeanine's. They both worked for the government." It's only now that they're gone that I realize how little I knew my parents.

"What else?"

"Nothing else. We were Abnegation, it wasn't polite to be curious or talk about yourself."

"Just because they didn't talk about themselves doesn't mean you didn't know them."

"You think so?" I twist around and look out the window. "After Caleb I'm not so sure of that. I know my parents loved me, and each other, but I didn't know  _them_. I wish I did, but how much can you know a person without knowing what they think and feel? It seems stupid that I lived with them for sixteen years and can't tell you anything more than our next door neighbor could."

It's dark outside, but I can see snow blowing past in the light spilling out the window; the first snow of the year. I sigh and turn back to Tobias. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think. My head isn't pounding and the room isn't spinning at least. I think I'm going to take a shower." He pulls his shirt up to sniff at it and grimaces. "I smell like the infirmary," he says disgustedly, and stands up.

He sways and the only thing that stops him from falling back onto the bed is my hand on his back. "You going to help me bathe too?" He snaps, voice thick with frustration. I know it's not directed at me though, just the helplessness he's feeling. I withdraw my hand and he stands firm. "Okay, have to remember to stand up slowly," he says more to himself than me.

"You know most boys would be more enthusiastic about that," I say, not so much echoing my words from his fear landscape, but definitely their meaning.

After a minute he shoots me a roguish grin over his shoulder. "I didn't say I didn't like the idea. Besides, the way things have been going, I might actually need help."

"Are you serious?"

He shrugs. "Only if you want to. I'm just saying, I wouldn't mind." I feel my stomach knot nervously, but there's something else too, an excitement that makes my cheeks flush and my pulse race.

Tobias follows me into the bathroom. It's bigger than our old one, just like the rest of the apartment; this one has a shower and a bathtub. The Abnegation in me says it's too much for two people, but the girl in me really likes it. I fiddle with the panel of switches just inside the door, trying to quell my fear. I was sure about this a second ago, but not so much now.

It shouldn't be a big deal. Tobias has felt every part of me, and seen almost as much. But it's different in here; there are mirrors and I can't hide behind dimmed lights. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, hoping for calm. In the dark Tobias' words come floating back to me.  _I ignore my fear. When I make a decision, I pretend it doesn't exist_.

There's a difference between being afraid and acting in spite of fear.

I don't look at Tobias or the mirrors or anything really as I undress and step into spray of the shower. All I see are the backs of his bare legs when he follows after me. I grab the soap off the tray and rub it across his back, over the faction symbols and up to mine. Keeping my hands busy keeps my head clear, and if he doesn't like it he doesn't say anything.

But I think he likes it. He subtly leans back into my touch, head hung loose between his shoulders. I like it too, but I always like the way he feels under my hands, and not just because it gives them something to do. I let them drift lower, over curves and planes of muscle feeling my mood lightening every second, like the water is washing away all my fears.

"I think this was a bad idea," Tobias says without looking at me.

My mood deflates on the spot. "Oh," is all I can say, my hands dropping to my sides.

"I'm a little worried I'm going to faint. There isn't enough blood going to my brain." It takes a second for my brain to catch up with his words, but when it does I have to stifle a giggle behind my hand. "Don't laugh, it's not that funny." But a moment later he's laughing with me.

"We can stop if you're really that worried," I tease.

He turns around, facing me for the first time. His injured arm hangs loosely at his side, but the wraps around my hips. He pushes me up against the tile, trapping me between it and him. It makes fear shoot through me, and I keep my hands flush against his chest to maintain some control over it and him. "I didn't say I wanted to stop," he whispers against my lips and then he kisses me. It's soft and slow, the kind of kiss that makes me feel like my bones are melting.

His words make an alarm sound somewhere in the back of my brain. They're vague and could easily mean something else, especially with the way he's hard against me. But I don't think they do. I push him away and reach for the soap. "Are you going to let me finish?" His lips twist up in a smile. "What?"

"Nothing. Finish."

"Tell me," I mumble against the underside of his jaw, his stubble rough against my lips.

"I never thought I'd learn to like you taking control. When did it in your simulations the first few times I was furious with you, that's all."

I kiss the hollow of his throat and pull away, swiping the bar of soap across him in place of my lips. My fingers play in the soft foam of it, chasing the trail of frothy white bubbles lower and lower. Across his chest, and I can feel his heart hammering away under the cage of his ribs. Lower to his stomach and over the slight ridges of muscles as they pull taut under my touch.

I let my fingers drift lower, across his waist and into the space usually covered by his boxers. "Can I?" My voice sounds breathless, but I can't look away from where he hangs hard and heavy between us. My body might still be slight and childlike, but his isn't.

"Yeah," he breathes out.

My hand is slick with soap and it glides over him easily. I'm careful not to press too hard, and when my fingers twirl around the tip and back down he shudders out a hissed expletive, bowing over me. When I do it again his hips twitch and I can tell that he's trying to keep himself still as I explore his body. His hands reach out timidly, sliding up my sides to my breasts, exploring me the same way my hands are exploring him.

I use the sounds eeking past his lips as a guide, reveling in the way I can make his breath hitch, and moans bleed out; the way I can make his body judder and shake. Christina was right; learning how to do this is like learning how shoot or fight or throw knives. And just like the first time I shot a gun, there's power in it, in having control over something powerful.

Because despite the bruises Tobias is powerful, could take from me anything he wanted and we both know it. But there's no triumph in taking something by force. The war was enough to teach us that.

The muscles in my arm burn in protest, and it's enough to bring me back from my wandering thoughts. Back to the shower, humid and fragrant, an obscene slapping sound bouncing harshly off the tile walls that enclose us. I change my pace, pulling at Tobias with slow, languid strokes to rest my muscles before they cramp. His eyes peel open, pleading with me to give him what he needs. After a minutes debate I lower myself to my knees in front of him.

His eyes go wide, and suddenly I'm nervous. Using my mouth seemed like a logical solution, but now that I'm face-to-face with the problem I'm not so sure. The logistics of it and my inexperience make doubt cloud my brain, but I shake it off and lick a stripe up the side of his length.

I look up to see Tobias looking at me with want and heat and lust. I do it again and he leans against the wall behind him, trying to steady himself, fingers trying to dig into the grout between the tiles for stability. All it does is spur me on. I'm careful not to scrape him with my teeth as I take him fully into my mouth. I keep a hand on his hip and my other around wrapped around him, controlling his movements.

But my hair falls into my face. "Hold my hair back?" That simple request makes Tobias look like he's going to swallow his tongue. He nods weakly and winds his fingers into my hair, holding it at the nape of my neck gently.

Between the two of us we work out a rhythm. His hips rock up towards me as far as I'll let them. Gagging probably wouldn't be very alluring. "Can you-," he starts and then stops abruptly.

I pull away with a wet popping sound. "Can I what?"

"Can you... use your tongue?" He asks shyly, cheeks pink like a little boy.

"I can do that," I assure him, though I'm not so sure myself.

I kiss my way back down and let him push past my lips once again. A quick swirl of my tongue leaves him leaking into my mouth. It's not unpleasant. A little salty, but not bitter or sharp. It tastes like him, like he should taste. I let him slide in further, and as he slides out I trace the ridges of veins, memorizing every inch of him with my tongue.

I don't have guess if he likes what I'm doing or not. He groans, low and guttural, satisfied. With that sound fresh in my ears I have no idea why the Dauntless girls I've heard gossiping so often complain about going down on a guy. They always made it seem like something guys loved and they did out of some twisted sense of duty.

But this? This I enjoy. Maybe more than I should because with the taste of him in my mouth and the sounds he's feeding me there's a growing ache between my thighs. It doesn't consume my attention the way it does when he's touching me, but it's there, steady and insistent.

Tobias' fingers tighten in my hair, pulling at it harshly. I hum my displeasure, which was exactly the wrong thing to do because a second later he twitches and spills into my mouth. I'm so shocked that I swallow without thinking, though I do nearly gag at it. Not the taste, but the texture. It's thick and viscous like mucus. Decidedly unpleasant, and it's enough to make me reconsider the complaints I'd so easily dismissed.

I glare up at him, and he looks down at me contrition and euphoria playing on his face. "Sorry," he says sheepishly. My knees ache as I stand up, but he cups my cheek in his hand. He peppers my face with chaste kisses, words of gratefulness and affection pressing into my skin just as easily.

"Next time warn me," I scold.

"I will. I promise," he says solemnly. His hand slides down, but I grab his wrist, staying him. "When you're better." He scowls at me. "Do you want to explain to the doctor why you messed up your shoulder?" I ask, an eyebrow cocked in challenge.

xxxx

I don't normally have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, but tonight I do. I have Tobias and our bed and blankets, and the bathroom light is on like it was in our old apartment, but I can't sleep. After hours of staring at the ceiling I slip from bed and take a basket of dirty laundry into utility closet just inside our front door.

I sit on the floor and watch the black of our clothes and the white of the soap slosh around, thinking. I don't know how long I'm here - not long since the washer's barely to the spin cycle - when Tobias appears in the doorway. He looks half asleep; hair tousled and eyes heavy.

"What are you doing?" He asks around a yawn.

"Laundry."

"At two in the morning?"

I shrug. "I couldn't sleep. I thought I might as well do something useful. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You not being there wakes me up better than any alarm." He lowers himself onto the ground next to me. "What's keeping you up?"

"A lot of things. My parents and growing up in Abnegation and me and you." I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, using them as a pillow as I watch him watch me. "You didn't ask me why I didn't want to fight, when I got back." I don't know if I expect him to say anything, but he doesn't, so I press on.

"I was so mad at you for thinking I needed bodyguards, like I was too weak to take care of myself, or that I'd do something stupid. But while we were driving there Zeke told me about you, about what you were like after I left for Erudite. He was trying to make me understand... why you behaved the way did today."

I press my face to my knees. "You said once it was strange that you had to learn about me almost dying from Caleb. I think it's strange I had to hear all that from Zeke. I wish I didn't. Maybe it's harder for both of us because we were raised Abnegation and trained to not talk about ourselves. But you never talk about Evelyn abandoning you... about the scars that left."

I peek up at him, but his eyes are downcast. "You have probably never begged for anything in your life, even when Marcus was torturing you, but you begged me not to go to Erudite. My leaving you like that, all the times I never valued my life..." I trail off, feeling guilt consume me. "I hurt you. I ripped open all those old wounds she left. And it's the reason why you asked me if I'd be there when you woke up, and why you woke up just now without me in bed. Some part of you is scared that I really won't be there."

The washes buzzes signalling the end of the cycle, but I don't take my eyes off Tobias. "But that's not what I was thinking about. I understand how what I did makes it hard to trust me with things as personal as that because I can hurt you more than anyone else. But I wish you would. I wish you would act in spite of your fear the same way I did in the shower this evening because we both stuggle with intimacy even if it's in different ways."

"I just don't want to be like this forever, even if I understand why you don't tell me things now. I don't want us constantly fighting because you don't talk to me or I don't talk to you. I don't want to constantly wonder what you're not telling me, like I was earlier when you said you didn't want your school papers because I do know when you're not telling me something. I don't want to live with you and not know you the same way I did with my parents."

The silence between us banks up like the piles of snow falling outside, soft and delicate. Eventually his hand finds mine and our fingers lace together.


	10. Chapter 10

Christina watches the growing crowd below us, her features piqued in concentration. "You know, life is really serious and miserable, but we put other people's genitals in our mouths as a sign of affection and it doesn't seem so bad."

I stare at her in blank shock for a moment and then, I can't help it, I laugh. Her lips twitch up, and before long she's laughing too, the rickety old fire escape we're perched on creaking as the force of it rocks our bodies. I hadn't know friendship - real friendship - in Abnegation, and I didn't expect it when I transferred. But I'm glad I have it now, even if my 'friend' did just badger me into confiding in her about things I never thought I'd share with anyone besides Tobias.

"No wonder Four looked so happy this morning," Christina snickers as she passes me the flask in her hand.

"Yeah, who knew near death experiences came with such perks."

"I bet there'll be a rash of Dauntless boys getting 'thrown' from trains once the word gets out. It's the perfect ruse; they're too injured to repay the favor."

"Don't remind me," I grumble before I take a sip from the flask. It doesn't taste good, but it does keep me warm.

Our clothes are smeared in neon paint, the evidence of a day spent shooting paintballs at each other, but when we finished our last paintball battle the guns were abandoned in favor of snowballs. Before long we were joined by a crowd of Dauntless and bottles of alcohol. Christina and I climbed the fire escape to drink in peace and have a birds eye view of the mayhem below us.

"Being selfless is great until you're left unfulfilled, although I bet it's fantastic for keeping him from having bouts of crankiness and tears and whatever else the doctor warned you about," Christina says.

This time I keep my mouth shut. Because I am unfulfilled. And frustrated. And selfish. Not that Tobias hasn't tried to 'repay the favor', but with his dominant hand injured... it's not as bad as when he was drunk, but his touch is clumsy and uncoordinated and hinders more than it helps.

But it's more than that too. Lately just the thought of feeling more and different parts of him is enough to make equal amounts of excitement and terror course through me. I haven't even been having nightmares the last few days, just dreams about Tobias and I naked and sweaty and tangled together.

I prop my chin up on a rusty rail and push those thoughts out in favor of the world of crystalline white below us. I know dwelling on them only makes me more frustrated. The grey of Abnegation stands out against the snow. They still don't talk about themselves, but it's nice to see them mixed with the black of Dauntless, blue of Erudite, and even a few red and yellow Amity hurling balls of snow at each other. Of course the Dauntless are the most dangerous, aiming for people's heads, but the white of Candor are the hardest targets to hit.

"It's nice, just being people instead of factions," I comment, the thoughts in my head pushing past my lips.

"Yeah, but what happens next?"

I don't have an answer for that. No one does.

As the sun starts to set the scene is bathed in hues of pink and purple. Finally the Candor stand out enough to take a few hits. We follow the last of the stragglers in, giggling as we slip across water-slicked glass floor of the Pire. We're buffeted by people making their way towards the Pit and dinner, but all I can think about is blue quilts and warm bodies.

My fantasies are wiped away when the door to our apartment swings open. It's dark and quiet and cold. Tobias isn't here. It doesn't surprise me. Since the dizzy spells and headaches have been waning he's been spending more time in the Control Room.

Suddenly I feel sleepy and sluggish, and it's all I can do to flip the switch that lights the gas fire and collapse on the couch. I run my hand across the fabric. It feels velvety soft like suede, but I know it's man-made; leather is saved for useful things like gloves and shoes, not wasted on couches.

I watch the flames dance and think about my Choosing Ceremony, the look in my father's eyes when I picked Dauntless instead of Abnegation. It must have seemed ironic to him that his children went back to the factions their parents came from. My mother called him 'selfish' when she came on Visiting Day, and maybe he was then, but I think - I hope - he understood before he died why I had to leave. I hope he would be proud of the choices I've made.

I'm still watching them when Tobias enters. Another of my choices. He sits down on the floor next to me, and I put my arm around him. His heart beats slow and steady under my hand. There was a time when I thought that was all that was left of him, and I decided to die rather than kill him; another choice, one I know my parents would have been proud of.

"What are you thinking about?"

"My parents. Wondering what they'd think of the choices I've made."

If he can smell the alcohol on my breath he ignores it. "Do you think they'd be happy you're shacking up with Marcus' traitorous lying son?" His tone is defense, but deep under that I hear insecurity too. "Your brother wasn't."

I feel an ache in my chest that has nothing to do with Caleb. "Hey," I say softly, tilting his face so he has to look at me. Even in the flickering light of the fire I can see how guarded his eyes are. "I don't care if they would or not. I love you. I want to be with you. You're my choice." The air shifts, turns soft, insulating us from the war inside and outside that threatens to destroy us. I lean forward and kiss his forehead. His fingers slide into my hair, holding me to him and for a moment everything stops, and it's just us.

When we pull away from each other he keeps his hand on mine, pressing it to his chest. "It doesn't matter to you that Evelyn loathes me," I point out. "And for what it's worth my mom liked you when she came on Visiting Day."

"Do you think they knew?"

"About?"

"Marcus, Evelyn, the abuse," he shakes his head. "Any of it, all of it. Marcus had to fake her death. He couldn't do that alone. And even if he could she became the leader of the factionless; the Abnegation worked with her to find Divergents."

"I don't know. They were good at keeping secrets."

"So are you."

"So are _you_ ," I parrot back, my voice hard.

"I don't want to be. Not with you." I feel his heart rate start to pick up like it would in his fear landscape, but before more than a few beats have a chance to thump heavily against my hand he's off the floor, and crawling over me.

After we jostle around he ends up on his side next to me, while I'm flat on my back with my legs thrown over his. His face is propped up on his good arm, and his injured one rests on my hip. "I'm going to Erudite tomorrow."

"Why?"

"To see if there's anything to Marcus' claims. I don't want a repeat of what happened the last time."

"Do you think he was lying?"

He rubs at his face wearily, as if he's spent a lot of time thinking this over and it's tired him out. "I don't know. I hacked their computer system today - what was left of it anyway - and didn't find anything. I didn't expect to, to be honest. Evelyn's not stupid enough to leave it intact on their system. But I don't think it was ever on their system to begin with."

He watches me expectantly. "It was on her computer in the lab," I say slowly, working my thoughts out. "Jeanine's personal computer that wasn't hooked up to the system."

" _If_  it existed... yes. When I went back to her lab before we left Erudite the hard drive had been ripped out."

"Marcus?"

"Probably."

"What do you think the information was?"

"Divergents, or what's outside the fence. They're the only things that would make her go to such extremes."

I nod in agreement. In the moments when I'd allowed myself to think about my meeting with Marcus that was the conclusion I came to as well.

"But knowing that doesn't help much. I talked to Cara, some of the other Erudite refugees, and got a list of people who worked closely with Jeanine. I don't think she would have confided completely in them, but they might know something."

"Makes sense."

His fingers twitch nervously against me. "I'm going to talk to Caleb too."

My head whips around so quickly our noses collide painfully. "He's alive?"

"Yes."

"You never said anything."

"You never asked. You haven't even talked about your parents until the last week, and I knew how much it was hurting you even if you never said anything. I thought maybe Caleb... just hurt too much."

I want to be mad at him for keeping this from me. I do. But I can't be. Because sometimes - even though it's been months - the thought of my parents rips me open and leaves me aching. Seeing a woman with wavy hair like my mother's or a man with bitten off nails like my father can make a chasm open up in my chest, and pain pour through it. I miss them, and their deaths are a tangible weight I carry with me.

I want to be mad at Tobias, but even though it maybe wasn't the best way to deal with things, his silence was the way he was supporting me. And I understand it, because it's a very Abnegation thing to do. He wouldn't want to bring it up and cause me more hurt, but he would have listened if I had.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pushing away the shock and pain his admission created. I nod when I'm got it under control again, encouraging him to continue. "With Jeanine dead... even though he was only an initiate... with what he did he's going to be one of the most important Erudite on trial."

"Will he be executed if he's found guilty?"

He's quiet for so long I open my eyes to look at him. I can't name all the emotions on his face and in his eyes. Conflict, sorrow, apprehension are in their numbers, but there's a fire too, one I'm familiar with. A fire that speaks more clearly of his desire to hurt Caleb for the pain he caused than words ever could. It makes me wonder how Tobias persuaded him to help release Amanda Ritter's video.

"Yes." It's a small, simple word, but the finality of his voice is like the swing of the executioners axe.

He watches me watch him, and it takes me a long time to notice that his hand is smoothing up and down my thigh, slow and soothing.

"Do you want to see him?"

I should. I should swallow my pride and my hurt and my anger and forgive my brother. But then I remember my mother dying in an alleyway, and my father in a hallway like they meant nothing, like they were worthless. I remember how Caleb spied for Jeanine and his callousness at watching her torture me for weeks. I think of all the people who died because of him. I think of Will and Christina and all the other people who loved the dead and are left to live with pieces of themselves missing.

"No, I don't."

Tobias doesn't argue with me. "He's going to go under the truth serum," he says eventually.

"I know."

"The jury might ask him about you."

"I thought only lawyers got to do that."

"The jurors can ask questions as well."

"Evelyn?"

"She'd never allow it."

"Because of you?"

"Yes."

I have my doubts her maternal feelings reach that deeply, but before I can articulate them, Tobias speaks again.

"I want to tell him you died in the fight with the factionless like we did everyone else."

"Do you think he'll believe you?"

"Your name is on the list of the dead. We have a death certificate."

I trace the veins on Tobias' hand. He asked me before to let him protect me, and this time I decide to let him at least try. "Okay."

He presses his forehead to mine. "Thank you," he breathes out, and I can hear the relief in his voice.

 

xxxx

I think of waves. The way the ripples in a cup of water bounce back on each other and grow, each absorbing the energy of the other and morphing into something new. It's the way Tobias and I move against each other, with each other, lips and fingers finding bare patches of skin and uncovering more in their wake. It grows from a gentle undulation, a suggestion of movement into something more forceful with us feeding it, spurring it on.

For the first time in a long time I feel close to him, connected to him in a way I haven't since before the war. Maybe him telling me what was going on with him - knowing that he wasn't keeping secrets - was what I needed because I don't feel the flutter of fear I normally do with his hips rutting against mine. All I feel is a wanting, a desire for more of him.

Tobias keeps a steadying hand on my back as he flips us over, covering my body with his. I don't feel trapped like I did in the shower though. I feel safe under him. I love the way he looks at me like I'm the only thing he sees, and touches me like I'm the only thing he wants. He makes me believe that I'm beautiful and sexy and desired.

My lips are swollen and tender from us doing battle, each trying to lead the other. I call it a draw when he pulls away to kiss down my jaw and neck, to nose across my collarbone and further down. His lips on my breasts come as a shock, but not a bad one; the weight of him between my thighs is enough to distract me from any niggling doubts about my inadequacy. It's not until I feel the gentle scrape of his teeth that I arch up into the humid warmth of his mouth.

Tobias flicks his tongue across the tightened sensitive skin at their tips. It makes me whimper and keen under him and the combination of it and the way he's hard against the slickened fabric between my legs feels too good to make me feel self conscious about the noises rising up my throat.

His fingers slide past the waistband of my underwear, to find the hot, wet skin they cover and slide inside me easily. It's enough to make my hands fist into the sheets, my whole body tightening in response to his touch the same way I'm tightening around his finger in pleasure.

It's not the part of him I'm craving though. I want to feel him inside of me, all of him. I want to us to be joined together. I want to feel his chest slipping against my own, and his arms around me and mine around him. I want us to move together like waves until my walls flutter and clench around him and he spills inside of me and I can pull a part of him into the deepest parts of me because sometimes it really is 'making love' and not 'just sex' and I'm finally -  _finally_  - not afraid of it or him.

But it's that thought that stops me. We all have nightmares, but this is the first time Tobias and I have pushed them away like this. I want him and this, but not because we're trying to forget the things that haunt us. I don't want it this way, our past tainting our present.

It takes all my strength, every ounce of willpower I possess to stop him, my body protesting every inch he moves further from me because no matter what my brain tells it, it wants this. "I want you, Tobias," I whisper once our breathing has steadied. "But not like this."

He rolls off of me and I hear him hiss in pain. His shoulder isn't fully healed yet. The world outside our windows is still dark. "Was it about me?" I ask as I pull the quilt more securely around us, chasing away the encroaching chill.

"Yes." He's quiet for a minute, hands searching until they find my own and he brings them up to his lips. "I love you." It's his explanation. He loves me, and it scares him. He loves me, and he's afraid I'll die. He loves me, and he's afraid I'll hurt him. He loves me, and he's afraid he'll hurt me. He doesn't need to explain that because I love him too.

* * *

The floor behind the couch where I'm sitting is littered with files. I should be making notes in them, cataloging each trainees progress, but mostly I'm looking out the window without seeing the view, mind wrapped up in thoughts of Tobias and I and whether or not stopping him was what I really wanted.

I hear voices and then the door bangs open. I twist around, looking around the edge of the couch to see Tobias, his back to me, inching into our apartment, one hand supporting a desk. Zeke is carrying the other end. They settle it against the wall and before either of them can notice me I retreat. I should stand up and announce myself, or maybe try to make a mad dash to the bedroom, but I don't even though I know I should.

"You've been quiet since I told you," Zeke says. The couch jostles against my back and I know he just sat down on it.

"Not much to say."

"Not much to say, or just not much you want to say to me?"

"What you and Shauna do isn't my business."

"Like what you and Tris do isn't mine?" When it becomes apparent to everyone in the room - seen and unseen - that Tobias isn't going to answer that question Zeke presses on. "Whatever you might think, all I was trying to do was help."

"You want to help? Stay out of it," Tobias snaps.

"Somebody's got their panties in a twist." I can practically hear Zeke's eyeroll. "And I would stay out of it, but in case you haven't noticed communication isn't your strong suit. I've seen what you're like without her, and I don't want to see it again. So-"

"What did you tell her?" Tobias suddenly demands, voice tight.

"Exactly? I told her you scared the shit out of me. I told her that all that control you usually hide everything under was gone and no one knew what you were going to do, but we weren't stupid enough to try and stop you. And I told her you didn't fool anyone. We all knew that no matter what you said, if she died, you wouldn't live much longer. But mostly I told her that you overreacting has more to do with you than her."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, I won't pretend to understand what happened with you and your parents - I know I don't know the whole story -, but don't think I don't see what you're doing with Tris."

"They have nothing to do with this," Tobias seethes. I can just imagine how he looks, fists clenched and muscles tense, anger contorting him. "And what is it you think I'm doing with Tris, other than keeping her safe, that is."

"You want to tell yourself they have nothing to do with this? Or that what you're doing is for her, fine, it's not my problem, but we both know that's not the truth."

"Oh yeah? Then what is?" I recognize that voice, Four's voice, cold and bitter and cruel. It's either a testament to their friendship or Zeke's fearlessness that he doesn't immediately back-track at the threat implicit in Tobias' tone.

"You're trying to protect yourself the same you always have because now that you've let her in a little she can break you, has come very close to doing it, and all you're doing is pushing her away." No one would look at Zeke and suspect that he's observant and thoughtful, but he is. He's normally gregarious, a joker, and Tobias needs that. He needs a best friend who pulls him out of himself, who makes him laugh and lightens him. But sometimes he needs a best friend who will tell him when he's making mistakes because clearly he can still be 'Four'.

"I love you like a brother, Tobias. I'd take a bullet for you, but you need to pull your head out of your ass. You're not always going to have people around that can bridge the gap between you and her. If you don't talk to her, she's going to bail. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday." His voice turns from grave to teasing. "Besides, you take my advice when it comes to what goes on in the bedroom, so why don't you take my advice when it comes to this too?"

For a few seconds all I feel is outrage - I want to pop up like a Jack-in-the-Box and demand to know exactly what advice Zeke gave him on that subject -, but I force myself to stay where I am.

"Speaking of which...?"

"Seriously, Zeke,  _stay out of it_." Tobias doesn't sound angry anymore, just embarrassed.

"Is this some Abnegation thing? If you're saving yourself for marriage you might want to hurry up and pop the question. Despite what your Stiff-wired brain thinks teenage girls are just as horny as teenage boys. Well," his voice is devilish, "with the right guy. Maybe that's your problem."

An empty water bottle ricochets over the back of the couch, and I freeze, praying neither one of them comes to retrieve it and discovers me.

"Touchy, touchy."

"It hasn't been the right time," Tobias mumbles, so low I can barely hear him.

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least he hasn't told Zeke about my fears.

Zeke laughs, loud and throaty. "I got news for you buddy, it's never going to be 'the right time'. Which leads us back to me. You don't think it's the right time to have a kid."

"I didn't say that."

"No, you didn't say anything."

"I just think it's weird she won't marry you, but wants to have a kid with you."

"It's not that she won't, it just doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"Yeah? Do you love Tris?"

"Yes."

"Can you see yourself with anyone else?"

"No."

"You want that forever?"

"Yes."

"Then why isn't there a ring on her finger?" I wait, with bated breath for an answer that never comes. "Not that I don't get where you're coming from with Marcus and Evelyn, but you can't have it both ways. Either it matters or it doesn't."

"That has  _nothing_ to do with it. It's not-"

"Not the right time," Zeke snaps, irritation bleeding through his voice for the first time. "Keep telling yourself that, and watch your life pass you by. Wave goodbye to it for me." The couch scuffs against the floor as he stands up. "You need to decide how much longer you're going to let them ruin things." I hear the door slam shut before Tobias can say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what can I say? I'm a tease. Don't worry, we're getting there, so just bear with me :) Oh yeah, I totally ripped off Christina's comment about putting other people's genitals in your mouth as a sign of affection from Tumblr. I have no idea who it belongs to, but it's brilliant and cracks me up and a very Candor thing to say.


	11. Chapter 11

_And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. - Anais Nin_

* * *

I stay on the floor behind the couch until the sun goes down and the lights of the Hub blink red in the darkness, thinking about the conversation I shouldn't have overheard in the first place. Surprisingly, the part that bothers me the most is what Zeke and Tobias said about marriage. But what's even more surprising is the way I recoil from the idea.

And I don't really know why because Zeke and Tobias both have a point. Tobias is right in thinking it makes a difference. Even with two people who love each, want each other forever, it makes a difference. But Zeke has a point too. I don't want anyone besides Tobias, ever, and if that's the case why aren't we married? More importantly why does the idea of it scare me so much?

I'm so absorbed in trying to catch the wispy thoughts floating around in the back of my brain, that I flinch at the sound of Tobias' voice.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He asks with confusion, his head whipping back and forth between me and door, clearly trying to work out if I'd somehow snuck past him.

"Working on my files," I say, a hand sweeping out to motion to the manila folders around me that have laid forgotten for hours.

"How long have you been there?" The suspicion is as clear in his voice as it is on his face.

I push myself up, using the couch for leverage. Everything's stiff and sore from sitting so long. "Shauna's pregnant?" I ask, dusting myself off, and surreptitiously admitting exactly how long I've been here.

"Trying to be."

"That's... nice." I try to sound enthusiastic, or at least interested, but I'm neither. I look up to find Tobias watching me, anger replacing confusion as the dominant emotion on his face. I expected it, to be honest. I would be if the tables were turned, but I don't regret what I did.

But I don't want to fight with him either. So I collect my files and head for the bedroom, away from the fight I can feel gathering around us like storm clouds.

"Tris." Tobias doesn't raise his voice, but his tone is as sharp as the crack of a whip and I stop in my tracks. "We need to talk about this."

I close my eyes and draw in a steadying breath, though I refuse to turn around and look at him. If I do, we will fight. "No. Not tonight."

"Yes, tonight. Right now."

"No." I keep my voice flat and even, refusing to match his tone of outrage. "I'm taking a shower and then I'm going to bed. We'll talk about this when you calm down." I don't give him a chance to argue, quickly stepping through to our bedroom, then our bathroom and locking the door behind me.

I stand under the spray of the shower, sorting out the mess of thoughts in my head. All of my fears are about powerlessness, but I don't understand how marriage has anything to do with that. I remember reading in one of my textbooks how years and years ago a woman had to promise to 'obey' her husband. A rueful smile curls up my lips. Even if things were still that way Tobias knows me too well to expect me to obey anyone, wedding vows or not.

Of course that's probably the only kind of marriage he grew up seeing. From everything he's told me Marcus expected absolute submission and obedience from him and Evelyn. But that wasn't a typical Abnegation marriage, or at least I don't think it was, but it's hard to know what happened behind closed doors when no one talked about themselves.

I always assumed my parents marriage was 'typical', but looking back on it now I have no idea. They didn't mistreat each other, but it makes me wonder again - as I did when I found their marriage certificate - how well I really knew them, or how well they knew each other.

I turn the water off, and grab a towel, going through all the motions I normally do before bed automatically, only half aware I'm doing them at all. I imagine my parents laying in bed at night before Caleb and I were born, whispering things to each other about their childhoods; my mother telling my father about Dauntless and being Divergent. I imagine my father telling my mother all about Jeanine and worrying to her as the woman he knew so well rose to power in Erudite.

For all I know those conversation never happened. For all I know they laid in bed every night not speaking, never truly knowing the person who they were laying next to, married to, raising children with. That's not the kind of marriage I would want, not the kind of marriage that would make me happy.

When I step out of the bathroom my eyes land on Tobias, fully dressed, laying on our bed. He glares at the ceiling, silently seething and I know he's not going to let this go. He's like a dog worrying a bone, refusing to give it up when he can still taste the phantom flavor of the meat it once held.

"I hate it when you walk away from me."

"I'm not walking away from you, I'm walking away from a fight," I say as I pull a fresh pair of jeans out of the dresser and grab my boots.

"Really? Then where are you going?"

"To Christina's," I snap. "I need to think and I can't do that with you trying to pick a fight with me."

"And how is that not you walking away from me?"

"God, Tobias, I am not 'walking away from you'! I need time to think. You know, that thing you were doing before you decided to tell me about Evelyn trying to enlist you in her war on Erudite?"

It's a snotty thing to say, but he is being a hypocrite and as much as I don't want to fight with him, it's infuriating.

"We _will_  talk about this, but not tonight, not when I'm not ready to, and not when you're angry."

I walk over to the bed and brush a quick kiss to his cheek. He's tense and cold and doesn't acknowledge or reciprocate it, but I want him to know that no matter what's going on between us I do still love him.

* * *

I lay on the metal chair feeling exhausted. I might not have had to go under the fear simulation serum today, but monitoring twenty people as they did left me feeling just as drained. I don't know how Tobias could do this. Maybe because his fears rarely came up in other people's simulations. Fully two-thirds of the people today had to watch their friends and family die, and though it's not exactly my fear, it's been made close enough by war.

I hear the door open behind me and expect to hear Christina's voice asking me what I'm doing, but instead I hear Tobias. "So are you still Seven, or do you need a new numerical nickname?" His voice is strained with affected lightness, and saturated with nervousness, but not angry.

I don't bother turning around to answer him, and a second later he drags the desk chair over to sit next to me. "Your number didn't change," I point out, "just your fears."

"So have your fears changed?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just understand them better now."

He looks at me searchingly for a long moment, and then drops his eyes to stare at the floor. "Last night... was that because I haven't asked you to marry me yet?" His voice is a mumble by the time he gets to the end of the sentence and his cheeks are brilliant red.

"No... well, yes, but not because of the reasons you think." There is no easy or kind or way to say what I have to say, but I can at least try to make it coherent, to get the worst of it out quick like ripping off a band-aid. "Because... if you asked, I would say no."

He inhales sharply, like he just took a hit. "Why?"

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side to mirror his posture. "I think you think it's enough that I know you love me. That I'm supposed to trust in that and you without really knowing what's going on with you. When you finally told me about the conversation you had with Evelyn you said 'If I had made a decision, I would have said something to you'."

"I would have."

"I know, and that's the problem. You would have made the decision for us. You didn't expect or consider my opinion, and when I didn't agree with you, you shut me out. I don't want that in a relationship, and I definitely don't want it in a marriage."

Tobias reaches out, timidly taking one of my hands in his, running his fingers over it in the same way a blind person would, as if he's trying to memorize it by feel alone. It's an odd action, and it makes me vibrate with nervousness. When my hand starts shaking he encloses it in both of his.

"I was thinking about my parents marriage last night, wondering if they ever talked... anyway, I realized something."

"Hmm?"

"The night before last, when you woke up from your dream...," I lick my lips nervously unsure of how to say what I want to say. "After you woke up from your dream I was... I wasn't afraid," I say significantly. "I wanted you and I wasn't afraid. But I didn't realize until last night why that was."

Tobias looks as if he's stopped breathing. If I couldn't feel his pulse in his hands around mine I would have thought his heart stopped too.

"I'm slight and not very strong, and most boys could overpower me if they wanted - you could -, and you're right sort of that this fear is about powerlessness, but what makes me unafraid is trusting the person I'm with. Even though what we talked about earlier that night had nothing to do with intimacy it was intimate."

"I don't-"

"I don't want to feel like I'm having sex with a stranger, someone I can't trust!" We both flinch at the sound of my voice, both surprised by my sudden vehemance. "I don't know how my parents could have had a family together, never knowing anything about each other. When you talk to me, when you tell me things that you don't have to, when it's a give-and-take between us it makes me feel closer to you, like you're not a stranger, and I can trust you because you're trusting me when you talk to me."

I huff into silence again, feeling frustrated. It makes so much more sense in my head, and I know it's right - I can feel it's right -, but I can't put it into words properly and it's not making this easier.

"You said before that your fears might have changed. Could they have changed because you understand them better?"

I stare at him in confusion for a moment before I answer. "I don't... I don't really know what you mean."

"Caleb."

I'm so thrown by his non sequitur that all I can answer with is a dumb, "huh?"

"Caleb, when I talked to him yesterday. I told him you died, and you know what he said? He was glad, because then you'd never see me turn into Marcus. I'd never hurt you the way he hurt me and Evelyn."

Even though the stories about Marcus are true it disgusts me that Caleb would think Tobias could be anything like the man he's forced to call his father.

"We were raised Abnegation, raised to understand the power and meaning of touching someone," he says, flipping my hand over in his and tracing the lines on my palm. "All these months I've been wanting to show you how much I love you. I respect that you have this fear, but-"

"I know you do," I say quickly, trying to reassure him.

"But," he presses on, ignoring me, "all I could think about after you left last night was how I already have hit you, nearly killed you in case you have forgotten. I just... it makes me wonder if somewhere in the back of your brain you think I will hurt you like that again if you make yourself physically vulnerable with me, if that's why you don't trust me."

The words sound like they're wrenched out from deep inside of him, and I understand why. It feels like they're mangling my heart into grotesque shapes like they're probably doing to him. I want to tell him that I trust him, but it would just be words because clearly my trust isn't absolute.

"You're not your father. You were under a simulation. There's a difference," I tell him sternly, but I know as soon as the words are out of my mouth they don't make him feel better. None of the times people told me I did what I had to do to survive when I killed Will made me feel any better.

But I also know they wouldn't affect them if he didn't already have this fear, if he didn't believe it himself the same way Peter's words affected me so deeply when he molested me because I was so aware of my inadequacies.

In all the time we've been talking he hasn't looked at me, and even now, as I gently pull my hand from his, he doesn't raise his eyes to mine. I smooth my hands up his arms, to his shoulders and lean forward, close enough to whisper "talk to me," in his ear.

We're so close that I can feel his breath, short and shallow against my shoulder, fearful. "Tell me what you're afraid of."

"You know what I'm afraid of."

"Tell me. No serums or simulations, just talk to me."

He swallows thickly and out of the corner of my eye I can see his adam's apple bob up and down. "Right now I'm afraid of you leaving me." He reaches out, placing his hands on my hips. Gentle, but still holding me in place like he's worried I'll leave.

"I'm not going anywhere," I say as I slide my hand across his shoulder to blindly trace the shape of the raven that's a permanent part of him now, just like me.

His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me onto his lap in one fluid motion, pressing his lips to the raven that represents him, right next to my heart. " _Now_ , but someday you might. During the war I thought I was just scared of you dying, but... my fear is much bigger than that."

He traces his nose across the curve of my collarbone, placing a kiss at the hollow of my throat. This isn't the time for heavy breaths and touching and kissing, but I can't stop the ache between my thighs or the need I feel for him. Not when we're close like this.

"And it's not a fear I can ignore," he says against my neck and I can't help leaning into his touch. "Sometimes I can barely control it, and all it does is make me hold on tighter. It makes me act like Marcus and I hate it. I don't want to control you like he did me, I just want to keep you and I don't know how else to do it."

"You're not your father, Tobias."

He pulls away, looking at me for the first time. I have seen his eyes burn with anger and smoulder with want. I have seen his eyes cold and calculating. I have seen his eyes silently pleading with me. But I've never seen them vulnerable and insecure and needy like they are now.

"Aren't I?"

I frame his face in my hands, forcing him to keep his eyes on me, to listen to me. "We're defined by the choices we make. You could have stayed in Abnegation, followed in Marcus' footsteps. But you didn't, you chose Dauntless. You choose to be different, everyday you choose to be different from him. Even now, this second, you're making choices that make you different from him. You're not your father, Tobias."

I can't will him to believe me, but I can try and show him. I scoot back an inch in his lap and push my hand up his shirt, resting it directly over his heart. "Even though you were under a simulation, truly believed I was an enemy who would kill you given the chance, you kept trying to disarm me." I press my hand firmly against his chest. "Marcus isn't here, where it matters most. Marcus never would have done what you did in the Control Room that night."

I see something shift behind his eyes, something I can't name or define, but it's there, looking back at me. I close the distance between us slowly, fitting my lips to his. For some reason it reminds me of our first kiss, at the bottom of the Chasm.

But this kiss is nothing like that one. That kiss was timid and uncertain, both of us feeling our way into something new. Now we have each other mapped and known. His arms hold me tight against him, the callouses on his hands pressing into the soft flesh of my back. It's comforting, the press and pressure of his body around mine. It makes me feel safe, protected and loved.

Zeke was right, there is never going to be a 'right time'. People have sex for all kinds of different reasons and sometimes they're the wrong ones and sometimes they're the right ones, and maybe we're always going to carry around the weight of loss, the guilt of not doing more, but if we let that keep us from living we're already mostly dead.

And right now, like the other night in our bed, I'm unafraid. And I want Tobias. I want to feel the slip and slide of his chest against mine. I want to feel his heart race with mine. I want to feel his breath humid and warm seeping into my hair. I want to feel alive.

I pull away, resting my forehead against his. "We can't do this here," I pant out.

He nods weakly and lifts me off his lap to stand on shaky legs. His hand in mine is sweat slick, but firm. He peeks out the door into the hallway that leads to the dormitories, a muttered expletive slipping out under his breath. We creep out the doorway, careful not to draw Christina's attention from where she is halfway down the hall, talking with one of the trainees.

"Where are we going?" I ask once we're out of earshot. "Our apartment is the other way."

"Utility elevator; if we have to walk through the Pit we'll never get home," he says as he leads me into a large hallway I've never been down before, boxes stacked up against the walls, and I can't stop a little hysterical giggle bubbling up my throat as the eagerness in his voice and the quickness of his steps.

For once luck is on our side and we don't meet anyone on the way to our apartment. Despite that, sometime in our walk I have picked up a nervousness that's making my stomach knot. It's not fear though, not like I've know it. This is like the nervousness I felt on Choosing Day, jumping off the top of a building and into the unknown. Scary, yes, but exhilarating too because even if I don't know what I'm jumping into, I'm pretty sure I'll land someplace safe, someplace better.

The plain white walls of our apartment flame red in the sunset, and once I've got the lock firmly in place I wrap my arms around Tobias' neck and pull him down for a kiss. I let out a squeak of surprise when he lifts me up, his arms hooking around my legs to hold me up as he stumbles us towards the bedroom.

We land on the bed in a graceless heap, Tobias more or less falling on top of me. Something sharp and bony of his - elbow or knee, I'm not sure - jabs into my side, but I don't care because a second later his leg is between mine, putting pressure where it makes me forget everything else.

Our hands tear at each other's close. He loses his shirt, and mine follows not long after. I'm so distracted by the feel of his lips against my neck that his belt is an almost insurmountable obstacle, and I have to push him off with my shoulder a little to clear my brain.

He kicks out of his jeans, but when my fingers start pushing his boxers down it seems to sober him and he grabs my wrist with his hand, staying me. "Are you sure?" He hovers over me, looking earnest and nervous, and I pull my hand from his grip, tracing the curve of his cheek.

The air around us shifts from charged and electric to heavy, significant, full of meaning, just like what we're about to do because there's still a part of us that will always be Abnegation. But without the distraction of undressing each other I feel nervousness roll in my stomach again. Before it can ruin everything I pull Tobias' lips to mine. "I want you, Tobias. Make love to me," I mumble against him.

He brushes his lips against mine before starting a trail of kisses that feels reverential, worshipful, and it makes me remember what he said about how he's been wanting to show me how much he loves me for months. His hands tremble as they undo the button and zipper holding my jeans together.

When he gets them peeled off, taking my panties along with them, he sits backs on his heels and just looks at me, hands framing my hips and holding me still. His eyes feel just like his lips did, but I have to fight the urge to squirm under his gaze, to cover myself up. It's not the first time he's seen me naked, but it's the first time I've looked at him, looking at me.

"Do you still want to?" My voice sounds an inch tall and it's filled with doubts that I refuse to acknowledge.

He stretches himself over me, holding me in his gaze until he's resting over me, cradled between my legs. I realize with a shock that he's naked too, and I honestly can't remember when that happened.

A small smile curves up his lips. "You're perfect," he says as he kisses my cheek. "And beautiful," he says as he kisses the other. It's so sappy and cliche I can't help but smile. "And I want you," he says as he kisses my lips. "Are you ready?"

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and nod into his neck. His hand slips between us to the slick bare skin between my legs, and I can't stop my hips back up into his touch. He slicks himself up with my wetness, and I feel him position himself against my entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop."

"Okay." Instinctively my muscles lock down, anticipating the pain.

"Breathe, Tris."

I let out a shaky breath and he pushes inside of me. He moves slowly, but my body still aches in protest at the intrusion. I should be used to pain by now; after initiation, after getting shot. And it's not the worst pain I've ever felt, but my body revolts at having to willingly submit to pain when it's been hard-wired to avoid it since birth.

A few tears leak out the sides of my eyes, falling into my hair, tickling my ears at a sharp pinching pain deep inside of me. But Tobias doesn't stop moving, and I don't try to stop him; I know he's holding back for me already. I bury my face in his neck, gripping onto his shoulders and anchoring myself to him.

My body feels like it's made of something more solid than soft flesh as it stretches around him, and he feels so much bigger than does in my hands or my mouth. When he finally stills, breathing heavy and ragged against my shoulder, all I feel is a burning ache.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, feeling the wetness on my cheeks.

I want to tell him it's stupid. It was going to hurt either way, and we both knew it, so he shouldn't apologize for something that's normal and expected and out of our control. I want to tell him that he's worth the pain. But all that comes out is, "I know." I kiss the bright red crescents my nails dug into his shoulders, suddenly wanting to apologize to him too.

He keeps himself level, waiting for a signal from me that it's okay to move. The idea isn't as appealing as it was before he was inside of me, but his hips twitch against me and I know he's dying to move, and though I'll never admit it to him, I just want this to be over with, so I nudge him into action.

He pulls out and rocks back into me, settling into a slow rhythm. I focus on his breaths, counting each one, ignoring the pain until it dulls, changes from something sharp that makes me wince, to something that's mostly just an uncomfortable ache.

I silently scold myself when my eyes traitorously flick to the glow of the digital clock on our dresser. To make sure it doesn't happen again I kiss every part of Tobias I can reach; his cheek, his neck, his shoulders. I nibble on his ear, and it's enough to make his hips stutter harshly against mine.

He shifts his weight to one arm, and slides a hand between us to stroke at me. It helps a little, but there's still an edge of pain and I know, even with his fingers teasing me just the way I like, it's not going to be enough.

"Are you close?" He grits out, pressing insistently against my clit.

"I can't; it still hurts."

"Please, Tris," he begs, "I want to feel you come, and I can't-"

I cut him off with a kiss and reach between us, removing his hand. "It's okay," I urge him, "just let go."

The words are barely out of my mouth when his body shudders over mine. My name tears past his lips, guttural and vicious, and I feel him spill inside of me.

When he slumps on top of me I can feel his heart racing through the cage of his ribs, beating out a tattoo on my chest. I keep an arm around his shoulders, and push the other up into his hair, pecking a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"I love you," he pants against my skin and then rolls off, leaving me feeling raw.

"I love you too."

"You didn't-"

"It's okay. Next time."

His fingers slide down my side, but I grab his arm and stop him. "Don't. It hurts."

He scrubs at his face in irritation, but I know it's not directed at me, it's directed at himself. He said before that he didn't want to be one of those guys who cared only about his own pleasure, and the fact that he couldn't please me doesn't sit well with his Abnegation instincts.

I flip over onto my stomach and pry one of his hands away from his face. "Hey, you get to call me Six now," I say, trying to cheer him up.

His expression softens, and he puts an arm around me, settling me against his chest. "No, not yet. Do you want to know what I found out at Erudite yesterday?" He asks as his fingers trace shapes on my back.

"Yeah, I do," I say, because intimacy isn't always about sex. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm sure there are going to be some people out there who are pretty unhappy with me that I didn't write this as Tris & Tobias having the Best Sex Ever. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. I love a lot of fics that have two virgins having sex in a way that usually takes people years to figure out, but that's not what I wanted to write with this from the outset. Will they have toe-curling, bed-shaking, scream-out-loud-it's-so-good sex? Yes. But not this time. On the upside (maybe, some of you might not think so) I'm not anywhere near done with this. There will be plenty more FourTris-y goodness in the future.


	12. Chapter 12

There's a part of me that isn't comfortable with this, with being bare when I should be clothed. And every time I feel the drip of Tobias' release and my blood pooling cool and sticky at the top of my thighs that part of me screams to be covered, to be hidden. But he hasn't stopped touching me the entire time we've laid here, and - like it did in the training room - it feels like his hands are relearning the already familiar landscape of my body.

When I can ignore that voice it does feel good. The cotton of the sheets feels softer than I imagined; cold and silken in contrast the warmth of his body under and around me because he's still naked too. I hear his heartbeat, the rumble of his voice through his chest where I rest against it as he talks.

His trip to Erudite didn't yield any information about what might be outside the fence or anything we didn't already know about Divergents. It did, however, explain the mystery of the computer virus he found infecting Dauntless.

"It's a kill switch. One simple command from Erudite and it would have cut off whatever faction they targeted. Destroyed every computer it infected."

"Yeah, but wouldn't they use paper records for important stuff like Dauntless does? How much damage could it really do?" I murmur, contenting myself with tracing the patch of flames that burn up his side.

"You're thinking too small. Computers regulate everything; how much water and power flow to each faction, for example. Even as self-sufficient as Amity is computers control the water purification system. And what better way to get people to bend to your will than by withholding what they need to survive?"

"Serums with transmitters," I point out.

"Those were recent developments," he says as his fingers ghost over the blue dye that will forever stain my skin. "The virus was Jeanine's first maneuver, a fail-safe in case she couldn't develop the long lasting serum she eventually did."

"If it's still on every faction's computer systems couldn't someone trigger it?"

"Yes. I talked to Tori and Harrison about it today; we're going to tell the other factions about it.

I frown, my thoughts turning to the Factionless and immediately becoming tainted with suspicion. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"We don't really have a choice. If someone triggers the virus it's not like we can house three other factions here. I already sent messages to Candor and Amity. We just have to do it in a way that doesn't raise suspicion."

"What about Abnegation?"

"Saving them for last. I don't trust Evelyn, and I don't want to give her any more weapons than she already has. With the Factionless inhabiting the Abnegation sector of the city... we can't risk them finding out until it's almost done."

Tobias told me once that he was deeply suspicious of people, that he always expected the worst of them. I wish that didn't stem from his parents. I wish they hadn't given him good reason to be that way.

Then again maybe if I was as naturally distrustful as he was I would have seen Caleb for what he was long before Jeanine revealed that he betrayed me. "Did you see him?" I ask quietly, unsure if I really want to know the answer.

Tobias doesn't ask who I am talking about. He knows. "Yes."

"Did he... how did he look?"

"Scared. Small."

"Sorry?"

He licks his lips, and I know his answer before he speaks it. "No."

I feel my heart clench painfully, hurt that Caleb doesn't regret anything he did.

"You never talk about him."

"I don't know what to say."

He rolls over so that we're face to face, and for the first time I feel nervousness in his touch for the silent questions he's asking me, for the answers he's asking me to confide in him.

"It feels like he's already dead, like I'm mourning the brother I thought I had more than the one I actually did have, if that makes any sense," I say after organizing my thoughts into something coherent.

Tobias reaches out, running gentle fingers down the curve of my cheek and a thumb across my lips.

"I just... don't understand why he betrayed our parents, and me, but mostly I just want him to hurt like I did - still do - and I don't think that's ever going to happen." Because maybe if he regretted what he did I could finally forgive him. "How did you get him to help you with the video?" I ask, pushing the thought away.

"I put a gun to his head and told him I'd kill him if he didn't," Tobias says simply. "Most people are afraid of dying above all else. So is he."

I'm not surprised. Caleb was might be smart, but he was never brave.

Tobias pulls me close, kissing the Abnegation symbol on my shoulder before fitting me against his chest, offering comfort and escape in his arms. Things have changed between us, but this is still the same. He's still soft and warm and feels like home.

* * *

I step out of the shower and look at myself in the mirror. I expected to look different in some way, as if what Tobias and I did last night would somehow be written on my skin. I still look like the girl I was yesterday though, even if I don't feel like her anymore.

I pull open the drawer under the sink, the little pink plastic case of birth-control pills sliding forward to bump against it's wooden confines. The sight of it makes me smile. And like I do every morning I push one of the tiny pills out of the blister pack and pop it in my mouth, dry swallowing it before I brush my teeth.

Maybe one day, when we're not living in a war zone, there will be a time when I won't. Not now though, not for a long time.

xxxx

When I step out of the training room to lock the door behind the last of the trainees to endure the fear simulation Christina is halfway down the hall, chatting with one of them, the same one - I realize after a moment - that was talking to yesterday. His name is Michael, and he's one of the Erudite refugees.

He looks pale and wane and after witnessing his fear simulation I can understand why. I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at any of the trainees without seeing them as they are in the simulations. His eyes drift to me as I walk towards them, widening a little before he offers me an awkward 'hello' as I pass them.

I don't feel like dealing with the raucousness of the dining hall so I go to the library. The beefy looking man sitting at the desk in the front lifts his eyes to mine in greeting, but as soon as I nod to him they fall back to the battered book in his hands.

I never expected Dauntless to have a library, and though it may be heavy on books about fighting and famous battles, even the spines on the volumes of poetry are cracked and well-worn. There's a large group of Dauntless children speaking in half-hushed voices in the section dedicated to them, and it reminds me that they're missing out on a year of schooling; the city is still too dangerous to send them there.

I find a large empty table at the back of the library and start writing progress reports on each of the trainees, noting their fears - if they're new fears or ones they've already faced in the simulations -, how long it takes them to break out of the simulation and how they do it.

I read Christina's notes about them as I go, because unlike our initiation the trainees don't get afternoons off after the fear simulations. Once I'm done with them Christina makes them practice boxing and shooting all afternoon. For some it might be a welcome distraction, but more importantly they're learning how to stay alive when they're mentally exhausted. It's a crucial lesson, one we had to learn in the midst of war, often times to our detriment.

With twenty-two trainees it takes hours to finish up my notes and when I do my back is aching from sitting in an unyielding metal chair for so long. I stretch hugely and get up to walk between the stacks, not really looking for anything in particular, just looking.

The shelf level with my eyes is full of cookbooks from one end to the other. I look up and down at the shelves surrounding it and they are too. I always knew we ate plain food in Abnegation, that there were many ways of preparing the same ingredients, but I can't help being awestruck. There must be thousands of different recipes in the books surrounding me.

I pull down a small, stained book, the words  _Fifty Easy Muffins & Quick Breads_ splashed across the cover. I carefully flip each page, stopping at the recipe for banana bread. I run a finger down the list of ingredients fondly. My mother used to make it for the Factionless, and though she would never let me have a bite of it, I think I will always associate it with her.

After a while my stomach pangs with hunger and I realize I haven't eaten since Tobias and I shared a pan of scrambled eggs this morning.

It's nearly dinner time and people are already starting to trickle into the dining hall when I sit down at an empty table, carefully setting down my stack of files the cookbook with one hand and a tray of food with the other.

Christina walks in not long after, still talking to Michael. She rubs a hand up his arm soothingly before waving goodbye. As she sits down next to me, her eyes follow him until he sits down on the other side of the room.

"Everything okay?"

"Hmm?" She finally turns to face me, taking a deep breath as if surfacing from her thoughts. "Fine," she says hurriedly. "He was just asking about how the simulations work. I think he thought if he understood it, it would make it less traumatizing."

"Oh."

"I told him he should ask you, but he doesn't want to."

"Why?"

"Apparently, you're very intimidating," Christina smirks, pouring herself a glass of water.

I turn my gaze to Michael. He's older than I am, maybe twenty, and bigger; taller, broad-shouldered. "Really?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"That, and I think he thinks you'll find it suspicious if he asks, like he's spying on us."

"And he doesn't think you will?"

"I'm not as scary as you, I guess." She looks down in her glass, smiling to herself.

I may not have an aptitude for Candor, but I remember how she looked around Will, and though this is not exactly the same it's close enough. "You like him," I say, confident in my assessment.

"He's nice," she says, turning around to look at him again despite herself. "Don't you think so?"

"Handsome, too," I tease.

"Yeah," she breathes out before she can stop herself, but immediately blushing deep crimson. "Where were you and Four sneaking off to yesterday?" She asks in retaliation and now it's my turn to burn in embarrassment.

"Oh... um... nowhere, really," I mutter, picking up my fork and eating with a concentration the food in front of me doesn't warrant.

"Guess you guys aren't fighting anymore."

I try to hide the smile splitting my face and fail, miserably. "No. We're not."

"Oh my God!" She gasps and I look up to see her watching me with astonishment. "You and Four... I mean...," she splutters, " _oh my God_."

"Shhh!" I hiss as her harshly, leaning over the table so she'll be able to hear me. "Would you  _please_  keep it down. I really don't want everyone in Dauntless to know." Her eyes gleam with curiosity, but before she can start in on the invasively Candor questions I cut her off. "And I don't want to talk about it," I say firmly.

She grins at me devilishly. "Maybe I should go tell Michael that people can overcome their fears."

The fork drops out of my hand, clanging loudly against my plate. "You wouldn't dare," I breathe out, horrified.

She laughs giddily and rises to join the food line. "No, I wouldn't." I still watch her closely, suspiciously, until Tobias sits down next to me and she gives me a knowing smile.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing," I mutter, turning my attention back to my dinner.

"How did it go today with the initiates?"

"Trainees," I correct him. "And it went well. They're getting out of the simulations faster."

"Any Divergents?"

"I'm not sure. A few of them seem more aware than the others, but none of them have manipulated the simulation like I did."

"No one's ever manipulated a simulation like you did," he scoffs. "You scared the hell out of me when you did that; might as well have put a big target on your forehead."

Our conversation is cut short by Tori and Harrison joining us, their talk of the trials going on at the Hub overrunning us. "For the first day it went well," Harrison says. "Max implicated a couple people we didn't know were as deeply involved in things as they were, so I had to send a message to Amity to our guards to bring them in, but we always knew that could happen."

I lean in close to Tobias, whispering in his ear, "I thought the trials were supposed to start weeks ago?"

His attention stays focused on Harrison, but he leans back, whispering, "they were supposed to, but the snowstorm kept people from getting to the Hub. We had to wait for the snow to melt so the buses could run."

Tobias getting injured and then everything else that followed that had so thoroughly eclipsed everything else, I had not even realized how serious the storm was. And part of it too is that I so rarely leave Dauntless the world outside it concerned me less and less since we've been back.

"How have we been getting food? Don't the Amity have to drive it in?"

Tobias shakes his head, eyes still focused on Harrison as he talks. "When the weather is that bad they load it onto the trains; it's the only time they ever stop at each faction."

I look down at the tray of food in front of me. I never thought about how it gets from Amity to my plate, the same way I never thought about how computers control everything in the city. I've been 'thinking too small', just like Tobias said.

By the time Harrison stops speaking, Christina has come back, Uriah, Zeke, and Shauna filling up the empty spaces at our table. "I heard back from Johanna. She yes, and she said Saturday would be best," Tobias says cryptically. Clearly it means something to Tori and Harrison, and I can guess at what he's talking about, but everyone else at the table looks confused.

But they also know better than to ask what he's talking about. I'm not sure if they trust that if it was something they needed to know Tobias would tell them, or if they trust that he will tell them in time, but it doesn't really matter. They trust him. Being a leader was never a job that Tobias wanted, but he is good at it, wears that mantle of responsibility well, and it makes me proud of him.

Eventually the conversation peters out into topics unrelated to factions and war; Christina and Shauna gossiping, Zeke and Uriah thumb-wrestling and teasing each other, Tori and Harrison talking about things that happened when they were initiates.

I look around the cafeteria, seeing a dozen similar scenes at the tables crowded around us. It seems happier now than before the war. People seem less scared, but maybe that's just me. Before the war I had so many things to hide, so many people to fear discovering those secrets that I don't have now.

Tobias touches the small of my back, pulling me out of my reverie. "Are you ready to go?" His voice is low enough that only I can hear it, but there's a note of awkwardness in it that's foreign for such a simple question. Still, I nod and let him lead me towards the door, glaring at Christina when her 'good night' sounds chock-full of innuendo.

"I have to go to Amity this weekend," Tobias says once our apartment door closes behind us. "Get the computer virus off their system."

"Funny enough, I kind of figured that out," I smirk at him. I flip the switch for the fireplace and sit down on the couch to pull my boots off.

"Yeah, well," he says, clearing his throat. "It might take all weekend, and I was thinking - wondering, really - if you wanted to come with me?"

"Why? Do you need me to talk to Johanna or something? Despite what you think she doesn't like me that much." I say, confused.

"No, I just thought you'd like to come with me, get out of Dauntless for a few days."

"Okay."

He sits down on the couch next to me, pulling my legs into his lap as I stretch out. He runs a lazy hand over them as a comfortable silence falls between us. "Tired?" He asks eventually.

"No, just relaxed."

He watches me watch him for a moment before he moves to lay down next to me, but stopping halfway to push up the hem of my shirt and kiss the freshly exposed skin. It doesn't feel right though; it feels unfamiliar.

"Are you sore?" I feel his lips form the words, feel them condense against my skin and cling to it.

For a second, I contemplate lying to him. There's something about his actions that's too sudden, that's too forced and unnatural. I fit my fingers around his chin and force him to look at me. "What are you doing?"

He sighs, defeated, and shakes my fingers off to press into my palm. "Being an idiot. I just don't like the idea that while I was feeling... what I was feeling, all you were feeling was pain." His cheek burns against the cool of my fingers. "I thought maybe tonight," he says uncertainly, "but you're still-"

"I'm not."

I am actually, but I have a feeling explaining that to him is a losing proposition. It's not even that bad. No real pain, just a little tenderness; I've had bruises that have hurt worse.

"I didn't think 'next time' would be tonight, but I'm not saying 'no'. I just don't want it to be like this."

"Like what?"

"Forced, and..."

"And... what?"

"Do I look like Peter?"

"What?" He chuckles, once, confused.

"I don't want it to be like you owe me, or I owe you. I don't want to live that way," I scowl at him.

And I don't want sex to be expected, not because it hurt - which it did -, but because I can't imagine it being everything I want it to be if it's as routine as brushing my teeth.

But I don't tell him that either.

* * *

I'm still wrapped in a towel, the warm steam from the shower wafting around me when I check on the doorstep of the bathroom. The sun streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling window of our bedroom glints off the gun sitting on top of the dresser Tobias is rummaging around in.

"What's that for?" I snap without meaning to.

Tobias looks from me to the gun before carefully picking it up and tucking it in the waist of his jeans. The butt covers the Amity symbol on the small of his back.

"I have to go to Candor today."

I feel panic stab at me, sharp and cold. "And you need a gun for that?"

"Yes," he says simply, pulling on his jacket and walking over to me.

He slides his hands over my shoulders, around my neck to tilt my face up so our eyes meet. He sighs heavily before fitting his lips against mine. I grab onto his hip, and it takes a conscious effort not dig my fingers in, to hold him to me. I don't understand my reaction, I've never been  _that girl_ , even when we were living in an active war zone.

"I'll be back tonight." Childishly, I want to make him promise me. Instead I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. "It will be okay," he says soothingly. "Zeke and I are going with a group of Dauntless to the Hub, and then the Candor will escort us to their headquarters and back; at night we'll travel back from the Hub with the same group of Dauntless. It will be okay."

And I let myself believe him.

And then I let him go.

xxxx

"Tris," Uriah grits out, "if you click that pen one more time I'll break it in half."

I glare at him before dropping the pen on the table and walking out of the dining hall, walking out the compound entirely. I climb up the same rusted fire escape Christina and I did to escape the snowball fight all the way to the top of the abandoned building it's tacked to the side of.

I don't even know why I'm out here other than I felt like I was losing it inside the compound. Too many people smiling and going about their lives like tragedy couldn't befall them at any moment. I sit down on the roof, leaning up against an ancient air-duct.

I couldn't focus on anything, was only half-away of the trainees and their fear simulations. It took until lunch to figure out why I was even so upset. It shouldn't have bothered me, Tobias going to Candor. We had lived through so much worse, nearly died so many times between us I was dangerously close to running out of fingers to count our close calls on.

But that was before Tobias got thrown from a train, and casualties in the Fog of War seem so much less threatening than an assassination attempt, especially since whoever tried to kill him hasn't been caught yet. You expect it then, in the haze of gun fire and blood. Not when all you're killing is time waiting for him to come home on a day like any other.

And as many times as we almost died I never saw Tobias broken and weak like he was after that. They aren't even words I should associate with him, but right now I can't help it because he was.

As the sun goes down I scrape together some pebbles and start throwing them at a spot in the wall surrounding the roof. I breathe just like Tobias taught me when I shoot, calming my mind down and focusing only on the target.

It works for a while, until I start shivering with cold and couldn't hit a target two feet in front of me, let alone twenty. My fingers are numb as I climb back down, but when I get to the door of the Pire there's a figure standing there, waiting.

Uriah turns and smiles at me, and affectionate 'hey', slipping off his tongue. Like his brother he's quick to forgive even if it doesn't come in the form of a 'sorry'.

"Thought you'd be waiting out here," he says as he rocks back and forth on his feet, heel to toe. He pulls a flask out from his pocket, silently passing it to me. Like before it doesn't taste good, but it does warm me up. "I thought I'd wait for Zeke."

His voice is too forced to be casual, and it makes me realize that I'm not the only one in Dauntless worried about a loved one tonight. Zeke was with Tobias when he was attacked after all, and I feel stupid for not remembering sooner.

"You sure you don't want anymore?" He asks when I hand him back the flask.

I shake my head, tucking my hands back in my pockets.

"I bet you'd be a fun drunk; very giggly." He offers me a crooked, mischievous smile before taking a pull on the flask.

"Ha, ha."

"She speaks!"

I punch him in the shoulder, just hard enough to let him know I'm joking. Our heads whip around to stare at the tracks when they start singing with the vibration of an approaching train. A moment later it comes into view and people start jumping out. I count each one, my eyes staying focused on the last jumper. It's a moonless night, but there are a million tiny things that tell me it's Tobias even though I can't see his face.

Maybe we'll never be the couple who does that running-jumping-squealing 'hello' after a day apart, but the smile that breaks across his face when he see me warms me more than anything you could put in a flask.

His arms wrap around my waist and I wrap mine around his neck, and for the first time since he left this morning I feel like I can breathe. He lifts me up, and my feet dangle off the ground as he kisses a trail from my lips to my ear to whisper, "I'll always come back to you, Tris."

A chorus of catcalls breaks out, lead by Uriah and Zeke, who adds a jovial, 'looks like someone's getting laid tonight'. Tobias holds me tighter with one hand and flips him off with the other before setting me back down on my feet and leading me inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a bridging chapter. Not the funnest thing, but necessary.


	13. Chapter 13

Tobias and I hop down from the train as it pulls to a stop of the fence. The snow has melted away, but it's still cold; the newly risen sun turning puddles that had frozen overnight into pools of slush. We don't look any different from the Dauntless and Factionless we mingle with as we walk; many of them have guns and bags slung across their backs like we do.

We're here for a very different reason though, a secret reason that only a handful of people know about and I smile as I remember Uriah saying he liked bodyguarding me because we get to do 'cool spy stuff'. Tobias' eyes are constantly moving, constantly scanning the mixture of woods and fields that border the road to Amity. I don't know if he's just being cautious or if he truly fears an attack. Once the apple orchards come into view though, he relaxes.

Johanna is waiting for us in her office, a young man with a face full of freckles and red hair not much older than Tobias stands with her. I offer him a small smile as Johanna and Tobias shake hands, and much to my surprise he pulls me into a tight hug.

"Hi, I'm Micah."

"Uh... nice to meet you, Micah, I'm Tris," I says as I pat him on the back awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to push him off of me.

"Oh! That's right," he says, and his arms spring apart, releasing me. "The Dauntless don't embrace in greeting."

"No, we don't," Tobias says, his voice as cold and hard as his eyes; even Johanna's looking at Micah censoriously.

There's a fire crackling in the grate and a large breakfast laid out on the table next to it, and as we sit down to eat I can't help thinking that this isn't a very auspicious beginning to our stay here, especially as Micah seems to fill whatever Amity's equivalent of Tobias' job in the Control Room is.

I try to keep up with their conversation, but I keep being distracted by how many slices of bread Micah eats as we talk; I have no idea how Tobias didn't punch me in the face when I was subjected to the Peace Serum.

Eventually talk turns to what's going on in the city. "I'm surprised Marcus isn't with you," Johanna says off-hand and both Tobias and I freeze for a second, forks full of food hovering halfway to our mouths.

"Why would he be with us?" Tobias tries to keep his voice even, but I can hear the strain under it even if no one else can.

Her face puckers in confusion. "We were told he was staying at Dauntless."

"By who?"

"A few Abnegation members who have recently joined us here." She looks from Tobias to me, worry etching new lines into her face, and I wonder again if her and Marcus have simply become friends over the years as leaders of their factions, or if the relationship runs deeper. "If you'd like to talk to them, I can-"

"No," Tobias says firmly. "I need to get to work on your computers. Tris can talk to them, try to figure out what's going on."

The rest of the meal is tense and quiet, and afterwards Johanna leads us to our room, an awkward conversation about how she didn't know there would be two of us and whether or not we want to share a bed making my cheeks flare red. It's so common for unmarried couples to live together in Dauntless that it never occurred to me that it might be as frowned upon in Amity as it in Abnegation. If it is Johanna doesn't mention it.

"Tobias," I start once the door closes behind us. Johanna and Micah are waiting in the hall, so we've only got a few minutes privacy.

"Did you see anyone on the way to or from the meeting with Marcus?" he cuts me off.

"No. No one." There has been so much death surrounding us already; friends, family, people whose names we will never know, but who loved and lived as we do. We have already endured so much loss that it should be easy to give voice to the singular thought in my head, but I can't.

"Talk to the Abnegation, see if you can figure out what's really going on with them and the Factionless. When you're done come find me in the Amity control room and we'll send a message to Tori and Harrison."

He brushes a swift kiss to my lips and then he's gone.

xxxx

"Beatrice," Susan breathes out when she sees me, like a sigh of relief. She looks so different in a red shirt and blue jeans, hair hanging loose around her shoulders it takes me a moment to recognize her. She wipes off the hand she had been using to toss feed to the chickens crowding around her feet and extends it to me in greeting.

"Susan, you look... different," I say unthinkingly, and she ducks her face, hiding behind a curtain of hair. It might be the only time I've ever seen her self conscious. "Good different," I add hastily. "Is there someplace we can talk?" I ask, trying to ease the tension. As she leads me out the hen house to a cluster of trees behind it I silently chastise myself for spending too much time with Christina; her Candor habits are rubbing off on me.

"Is Marcus with you?" She asks eagerly as we sit down on a wooden bench under them.

"No, he's not."

"Did he send any messages? Is he okay?"

I hesitate, unsure of what to say, or even how to say it. Maybe there is no good way to say what I need to. "He's not at Dauntless. I don't know where he is."

Her hopeful expression breaks under the weight of fear. "Is he dead?" She whispers as she looks down at her hands in her lap.

"I don't know."

I can see the struggle in her, the effort it takes to subsume her own emotions and disappear into selflessness. There's something beautiful about it, something I envy.

"Susan, I need you to tell me what's going on in Abnegation. When I met with Marcus he said that the Factionless had some information that they wanted to keep from everyone in the city. Do you know what it is? Maybe something about Divergent's or what's outside the fence?"

"Why would I know anything about the information the Factionless have?" Her voice still bears the strain of emotion, but each word comes out clearer and evener than the next.

"Because Marcus knew what it was too."

"I don't know what you think he told me, but I wasn't a leader, or even someone he confided in. He asked me to see you because he knew we were friends."

"Are you sure you didn't hear or see anything?"

Her brow furrows in concentration, but a moment later she shakes her head. "You should talk to Thomas and Nathaniel Farlan, Marcus was living with them."

"Are they here?"

"Yes. I don't know where Nathaniel is, but I think Thomas is out tending the cows. Robert can drive you out there," she says as she stands up and leads me around the building, to find her brother, I assume.

"Why did you think that Marcus was in Dauntless?"

"I thought... when he didn't come back... that you had taken him there." Her voice is measured and I know it's to keep the weight of silent accusations out of her words, but I feel them anyway.

xxxx

"So how come Susan is here?" I ask Robert as we bump along a dirt road. Amity is far behind us, and I have no idea how much further we have to go until we reach our destination, but I hope it's close; I still don't like trucks.

"The day she came to visit you I arrived with a small group of Amity to meet with the Abnegation leaders about the war memorial. Anyway, when we got to my parents house someone had torn it apart, looking for something I guess," he says over the rattle of cab as we lurch over dips and humps in the road.

All I can do is gape at him stupidly. There are no locks on any of the doors in the Abnegation section of the city, but there has never been a break-in or anything remotely close to it. It is a crime of envy, but when everyone has equally little there is nothing to covet. More than that any Abnegation would willing give anything they had to someone who wanted it.

"It scared her, I think, though she tried to hide it." His eyes glaze over, remembering events I had no part of. "But a few nights before I was supposed to take the train back here she came home completely terrified; she said someone had followed her the Meeting Hall and tried to grab her."

" _Oh my God_ ," I whisper, horrified.

"Of course I thought I would have to kidnap her to get her to come back here with me; 'faction before blood' and all that - as if it matters now." He frowns, looking worried. "I know Dauntless and Amity are not natural friends - it's like the lion laying with the lamb -, but I don't know if she's safe here, with the Factionless keeping watch on us. It might be better if she went back with you."

I look out the window, across the fields brown with dried grass and dirt to the thicket of trees in the distance. When we came here on the night of simulation attack it was peaceful. Not safe, exactly, but now it feels threatening, as if a pall has been cast across it.

"Anyway, Thomas can fill you in on what's been going on in Abnegation better than I can," he says after a minute, his voice slipping into tones that may not be cheerful, but are at least relaxed.

By the time we reach the cow sheds I'm sore from the waist down and dreading the trip back. There are guards here too, and though the Dauntless ones acknowledge me with a polite nod, the Factionless ones eye the knife strapped to my leg with something between apprehension and hostility.

Still, they don't make a move to stop me as I follow Robert into the building. The first thing that hits me is the smell, the overpowering cloying stench of manure in an enclosed space. The next is the gentle lowing of the animals, like they're murmuring little things to each other as they move around the building, from feeding stations to milking stations.

After a minutes searching we find a small group of people and I recognize Thomas Farlan from the weekly Abnegation meetings, but only because even in uniform gray he literally stood out; he and his brother are both extraordinarily tall.

I quickly explain the situation to him, not exactly glossing over the part where no one knows where Marcus is, but not exactly belaboring it either. Thomas seems to bear the news well, or at least better than Susan did. Then again she has a tendency to believe in the best of things whether it's supported by the facts or not.

"So Dauntless wants to know... what, exactly?" He says when I finish.

"I met with Marcus three weeks ago. He said that the Factionless had stolen some information from Erudite, but he didn't tell me what it was. He was trying to use it for leverage; information in exchange for the same refuge we offered other Abnegation."

Thomas' eyes harden at my description of Marcus, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and his expression becomes as passive and calm as the animals around us again.

"Anyway, it was something they were trying to keep from the rest of us, maybe something about Divergent's or what's outside the fence, but it could be anything. Susan Black told me he was living with you before he disappeared and I was wondering if he said anything about it."

He looks at me appraisingly, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, taking in the black clothes and tattoos and knife. "No," he says finally, "he didn't."

I bite my lip, debating. It's obvious he doesn't trust me. The Abnegation don't lie, not exactly, but they use silence to manipulate people and right now - as always, it seems -, it could get them killed.

"I don't blame you for not recognizing me," I say.

He raises an eyebrow questioningly, but doesn't say anything, so I press on.

"My parents are Natalie and Andrew Prior."

"They are dead, as are their children."

I'm surprised, pleasantly, that Marcus and the other leaders lived up to their word and perpetuated the lie of my death even within Abnegation. Of course if Tobias knew I was admitting it to someone we don't know or trust he'd hit the roof.

"Robert," I call him away from where he's chatting with a pretty Amity girl in a yellow dress and rubber boots. "Tell Thomas how you and I know each other."

He looks at me curiously, but does just that. Thomas' expression softens slightly, but he keeps his lips pinched shut and I know there's no way I can badger the information out of him. He still thinks I'm Dauntless through and through, but just because I transferred doesn't mean I didn't learn anything in my time in Abnegation.

"Anything you could tell us would be helpful," I say casually, as if it's unimportant. "Even if it's just something you saw or heard that seemed odd or unimportant at the time."

And then I switch topics, to something safer, seemingly forgetting the last few minutes.

"We've heard that the Abnegation sector has been unsafe, that many of you want to come to Dauntless. We agreed to it immediately, by the way." If the shock that briefly crosses Thomas' face is any indication, Marcus never told him that. "But we haven't heard any specifics," I say, letting the question hang there, baiting him.

"Not worse," he says slowly, "just... weird."

"Weird, how?"

"Little things, mostly. Dauntless better than any faction knows that not all of the Factionless are simply people who couldn't find where they fit into our society; some of them are criminals, and are thrown out of their factions for very good reasons."

I think of Edward, of the anger and instability I saw in him the morning after Tobias and I escaped from Erudite.

"But that's not what I'm talking about. Evelyn is supposed to control those people, and for the most part she does. There are other things though. The leaders - including Marcus - are being followed. I don't know why," he adds, hastily.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing I can prove," he says uncertainly.

"What about what you can't prove?"

xxxx

The ride back to Amity is just as unpleasant as the ride away from it had been, but it does give me time to mull a few things over. It's mid-afternoon by the time Robert pulls to a stop in front of the small complex of buildings where Johanna's office and the Control Room are. I walk on unsteady legs towards it. I look over my shoulder to make sure I'm not being watched and knock on the door softly; paranoia is catching, I guess.

A moment later it cracks open and Tobias peeks out, quickly ushering me inside once he realizes who it is. "Where's Micah?" I ask as he closes the door behind me.

"Still at lunch, thank God. If he had stayed any longer I might have strangled him."

"Maybe you just need some bread," I quip.

"Funny, he said the same thing," Tobias says dryly, leading me towards a large desk made out of the rough wood.

"He knows?"

"Yes. Apparently he uses it recreationally."

The computer monitor in front of me shows a series of progress bars, each slowly ticking from one side of the screen to the other. But Tobias isn't paying attention to it, he's sitting on the floor in front of the rack of servers, tapping on a small laptop computer connected to one of the machines with a fat blue cord.

"So what did you find out from the Abnegation?"

"Basically? They're being watched."

"We're all being watched," he scoffs.

"What do you mean?"

He looks at me over his shoulder, a little furrow cutting between his brows. "What do  _you_  mean?"

"They think Evelyn's been watching them. Having the leaders followed, bugging the meeting hall, intercepting messages between them and the other factions..." I trail off. All that is worrying, as are his stories about the Factionless patrols that Evelyn claims are for everyone's safety, but it's not what's really bothering me.

"Tris?" I take a deep breath, and blink my eyes back into focus to see Tobias watching me curiously. "What is it?"

"There are things that don't fit," I say uncertainly. "Why did you think Marcus stole the hard-drive?  _You_  had Caleb disable the security system for Jeanine's laboratory so the Factionless could access her computer."

"I said that because it was the only way to get him out of a room full of armed Factionless without raising suspicion. He did disarm the security system, but the only people in Jeanine's lab were me, him, and Marcus."

"Did you reset the system when you all came down to the lobby after?"

"No," Tobias says tersely, bristling at the reminder of his mistake. "Marcus was the only person in that room who knew there was something other than the video on the computer."

"At the time, yeah, but how do you know that Evelyn or one of her lackeys didn't slip up there during the fight afterwards? Her one condition for allying with Dauntless was control of the Erudite data."

Tobias and I both suffer with pride, and though I'm not accusing or blaming him for anything his shoulders are stiff and defensive because he hates being wrong as much as I do. He hates it even more when someone points it out to him.

"When it became clear the rest of us weren't going to surrender without a fight," I continue, "it would make sense for her to grab the one computer that had the most important information. Besides, Marcus never said it was information he had that they wanted, but something they both knew and were keeping from us."

Tobias turns back to the tiny computer in his lap, banging on the keys with unwonted force. "What else doesn't fit?" He asks after a while.

"Susan's house was broken in to the day she came to see me at Dauntless, and someone tried to grab her one night on the way back from the Meeting Hall. All the things going on... they only have suspicions, but Susan's house was turned upside down; there was no mistaking what happened. It doesn't make sense."

"Did she know anything about this mythical information everyone but us is supposed to have?"

I scowl at the back of his head, annoyed by his pigheadedness and sarcasm. "She doesn't know anything."

"So she says, but Marcus trusted her."

"Marcus  _used_  her," I say firmly. "She doesn't know anything." Caleb was always closer to Susan than I was, but there are no hidden parts of her, no hidden motivations. "Do you think he's dead?"

Tobias glares at me over his shoulder. "If there's one thing Marcus Eaton is good at it's self-preservation," he says harshly. "Until I see a body I won't believe it."

When we thought Marcus was dead before - after we had to flee Amity -, I expected Tobias to be relieved that the man who had spent sixteen years menacing him was dead. It wasn't until later that I realized his seeming indifference was a cover for his grief. Maybe because at the time I was so deep in my own I didn't recognize it for what it was. It seems senseless that he would mourn Marcus, but love and grief are strange.

"Did you know there's going to be a war memorial," I say eventually.

"I heard."

"Robert showed me the slabs of limestone they're engraving the names of the dead on."

"Is he the one you talked to that day we visited the fence?"

"Yes. He's Susan's brother. He thinks she's in danger here; thinks she should come back to Dauntless with us."

"Okay," he says distractedly, closing the laptop and stowing it in his backpack.

"I want to go when they dedicate the memorial," I say as Tobias stands up and stretches.

"That's a bad idea. Someone could recognize you."

"I really don't care," I say flatly.

"Tris-"

I press my hands to my face, rubbing at my eyes and causing a burst of phosphene lights; a dreamscape of kaleidoscopic color surging and morphing behind the dark of my eyelids. It's better than crying again. "We never had a funeral, Tobias. I never got to say goodbye to them."

"What's the point of everything that I've done to keep you safe-"

"You don't understand! And if you're so worried about keeping me safe, why aren't you the one talking to the Abnegation?" I snap and instantly regret it because he does understand, only too well.

Evelyn's funeral was always a half-remembered memory for me, and her being alive so dwarfed it it's easy to forget that no matter how make-believe her death was, it was real to Tobias. Even knowing Marcus is probably dead... it's still too fresh and hard to believe without a body.

There's a knock on the door, but it sounds a million miles away because Tobias is standing in front of me I can feel the anger rolling off of him. I'm not scared of him - I've never been scared of him -, but I am scared of his reaction because there are lines you don't cross and I just did.

"Coming to Amity and talking to a few people isn't the same as rising from the dead in front of a crowd of people." His voice is low and tense, a perfect reflection of the way his muscles are strung tight over his bones. "You stood up in front of Candor and called their leader an idiot. Do you think none of them won't notice that you're alive when I was supposed to have buried you months ago?"

He stalks over to the door and flings it open. Micah is on the other side, chewing on the ever present slice of bread, but the look Tobias gives me clearly tells me to get out.

xxxx

It takes a while for my hands to stop shaking, for my whole body to stop shaking. I pace in the barren apple orchards until sundown, alternating between telling myself off for my stupidity, and worrying what I was going to have to face when Tobias turned up for dinner or bed, or if he'd even turn up at all.

Finally it gets so cold I'm forced inside. I sit with Susan, knowing she wouldn't have much to say even if she does notice the stricken look that's probably on my face. And mercifully she doesn't say anything other than 'hello', at least until Robert sits down with us.

"I think you should go back to Dauntless with Tris," he says to her.

Her eyes widen a little. "No... no, I couldn't do that."

"There are a lot of Abnegation there, Susan," he says persuasively.

"But I'd have to learn how to fight, and shoot," she stutters, eyes reeling to meet mine. "Wouldn't I?"

I sigh heavily, tracing my spoon through the dregs in the bottom of my bowl. I believed I wanted to die until the moment it became a reality, but Susan is Abnegation to the core. She simply doesn't have the will to survive that most people have even when they think they don't. It's the same reason the Abnegation haven't kicked the Factionless out of their part of the city, no matter how dangerous it is.

"I know the the leaders of Dauntless said anyone is welcome there - and we have people from Abnegation as well as Candor and a few Amity now -, but you would have to go through training like everyone else does, yes."

She turns her attention back to her brother, expression resolute. "I'm safe here, Robert," she says and pushes herself up, collecting our dirty plates and disappearing into the kitchen.

"Can't you make an exception for her?"

"It's not up to me."

Robert scowls at me, and I know exactly what he's thinking. Susan wasn't in danger until she came to visit me. In a small way it's my fault that she's in danger at all.

I follow Susan into the kitchen, coming to stand next to her as she stands at a big sink washing dishes. It feels normal, natural, to stack each plate she hands me after cleaning it; it feels Abnegation.

"Have you seen Caleb?" She asks once everyone else has cleared out of the kitchen.

"No."

"I heard that he's going to go on trial."

"Yes, he is."

"Do you think he'll be executed?" her voice wobbles, threatens to break, and though I have told more lies and half-truths in the last six months than I have in the previous sixteen years, I have never wanted to lie more than I do in this moment. But a lie won't change reality and I don't want to give Susan any false hope.

"Yes." I try to keep my voice steady, but the word scrapes painfully up my throat on the way out, leaving it raw.

She nods to herself, starting on a basket full of dirty cutlery. "I used to lie in bed at night and imagine how things would be after you and Caleb, and Robert and I all completed Abnegation initiation."

I can't help watching her out of the corner of my eye. I can count on the fingers of one hand how many time I've heard her talk about herself, but never has her voice been so sad.

"I always imagined you marrying Robert," she laughs a little. "And me Caleb."  _And our children would have walked to school together_ , my memory fills in, recalling the last time she said something like this.

"Did you love him?"

"Yes."

Unbidden the quote _Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him floats through my brain_. It was in a book I read once, one I can't remember anything else about, and even though Caleb was comforted by the lie of my death, I'm comforted by Susan's love for him.

"How long are you staying for?" She asks once we're finished.

"Just until tomorrow."

"I won't say 'goodbye' then, just 'goodnight'." She gives me a tight lipped smile and slips out the back door.

I look around the cavernous kitchen. It's the only place in Amity that's more stainless steel than rough wood. I didn't see Tobias at dinner tonight, which means he's still working. Or burying Micah's body I think ruefully, since I didn't see him at dinner either.

He's probably still furious with me though, so I decide to afford him the same luxury I demanded, namely space. I go back to the room we're supposed to be sharing and crawl into bed. And surprisingly, I am able to sleep though I miss the warm weight of his arms around me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

The sounds of Tobias coming into our room in Amity stir me, but I'm trapped between my dreams and true wakefulness. I don't know how long he's been there - it could be a minute or an hour -, but I finally force my eyes open to search for him when I don't feel his arms slip around me like I know they should.

He's standing at the window next to the bed, arms crossed across his chest as he gazes out. There's something about it that unnerves me, that makes adrenaline race through my veins and my muscles tense defensively. I shoot up, but it makes the room spin and the best I can do is lean back against the headboard and hold my head in my hands until it stops.

My voice is thick and my brain still hazed in sleep, and I want to ask him if we're under attack, if someone is coming for us, if we're in danger, but all I get out is, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just couldn't sleep." It's so dark I can't really see his expression - there's no moon tonight to shine helpfully through the window -, but his voice is defensive.

I sigh. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this. "C'mere," I say softly. Tobias hesitates for a moment before sitting carefully next to me on the bed, letting me take his hand in mine, which I take as a good sign.

As much as I'd rather say what I'm about to say to my hands or the wall, I force myself to look at him. "I really am sorry about what I said today." And I am, but as much as I am and as much as I love him everything inside me revolts at have to say 'I'm sorry' out loud. My pride would rather take another bullet than admit I was so wrong to say what I did that I'd even need to apologize.

Tobias doesn't say anything at first, but his hand relaxes in mine, and I know that even if he can't forget what I said, he can at least pretend to. I want to ask him what is keeping him up after such a long day but I have a feeling that would reopen the wound we've only just managed to close, so I don't say anything.

"Were you having a nightmare?" He eventually asks.

I try to cudgel my brain to recall anything, but all it comes up with is a series of disjointed images that I can't make sense of. "No, just dreaming, I think. You should sleep though," I say gently.

"I'm not that tired." His voice is flat, and it's a tone that I recognize, though I haven't heard it for months. The same tone he used after we returned to the Pit when he didn't want to sleep because he didn't want to dream.

"Then just lay with me." I tug on his hand, coaxing him towards down and shifting around so that his head is resting on me stomach. He kicks his shoes off and pulls his knees up. There's something childlike about the action, something vulnerable, and it makes me think that maybe he needs this like I needed him the last time we were in Amity.

He hums to himself - a sound lodged in the back of his throat that conveys contentment better than words - at the feel of my fingers carding through his hair. He still keeps it longish, Dauntless, and the curls wrap around my fingers loosely. "Did you finish with the computers?"

"Yes," he murmurs, voice quiet because it feels like a time for soft voices. "We can go home in the morning."

"Did you have to hide Micah's body?"

"No," he chuckles.

"Good. I don't think that would be good for Dauntless-Amity relations."

"You and Robert seem to get along just fine," he grumps.

"That's because he doesn't know me like you do." It's the best I can do; try to dismiss it, make it a joke, make Robert worthless even though there's a part of me that likes that Tobias is jealous. But I squash it down because there have been times where I have been jealous, when I have seen girls looking at him and felt like I wanted to break them in half and I know it's not any more pleasant for him than it was for me.

"Was there something between you two in Abnegation?"

"No. We were thrown together a lot because of Caleb and Susan, but we were never close." I don't tell Tobias that if Robert and I had stayed in Abnegation we probably would have ended up married. Marrying Robert would have been an act of defeat, of selflessly accepting my lot in life, not love.

"I could never love him, never would have sacrificed myself to Erudite to save him like I did for you." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them or realize their weight. He knows that's why I went there, but I've never said the words - out loud -, to him. It is hard to speak the truth though, to make yourself vulnerable by admitting how much power your love of someone holds over you.

My cheeks flush viciously, burning bright at the admission. "I would have gone, if you didn't," he says.

"I know." But I couldn't just let that happen without a fight, the same way I couldn't shoot him that night in the Control Room. Not that sacrificing myself did any good; he still turned himself in just like I did. His angry 'You die, I die too,' still haunts my nightmares sometimes.

He goes very silent and very still for a moment before he speaks and I can feel the discomfort his words are creating before they even get out of his mouth. "You never asked why I haven't asked you to marry me."

"I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that," I breathe out. As backwards as it sounds the one time the thought flitted across my mind all I felt was a stab of terror that he hadn't, despite the fact I would have said no. After that every time my thoughts have wandered near the subject I shut them down.

"It's because I can't trust you," he says slowly, focusing on my fingers as he twists his through mine. "I can't trust you to want to stay alive if things go shit side up again."

The first thing I feel is hurt, deep and aching, that he can't trust me after everything we've been through. The second thing I feel is anger because he's being a hypocrite. Even though we both deny it, it's our deepest nature to be selfless and not because it was ingrained in childhood, because it's who we are when you strip everything else away.

I wouldn't 'needlessly' throw my life away as I tried to do when I was consumed by grief, but there are still people I would die for, and so would he. To ask each other to stay alive in the face of a worthwhile sacrifice... it's the most selfish thing we can ask each other.

And it makes me want to push Tobias off, makes the weight of him against me feel restraining, not warm and familiar and wanted. And it feels like he's punishing me, or giving me an ultimatum like he did that day in Candor headquarters.

But before I can do more than silently stew in outrage there's a soft, urgent tap on the door, and my name being whispered through the crack of the doorjamb. Unlike before it makes terror slide down my spine, sharp and cold because those soft noises spell danger.

Tobias slides off the bed silently, passing my jeans up from where I left them on the floor before pulling a handgun out of the drawer in the bedside table. He checks there's a bullet in the chamber and stations himself behind the door.

My hands are sweat slick, and my breath is coming quick and shallow, but my voice is steady when I ask who it is, keeping to the side of the door in case the person on the other side is planning to put a bullet through it at the sound of my voice.

"It's Thomas, I need to talk to you," he says hurriedly.

There are a million questions that cross my mind, but they don't include things like why he's here now, why he couldn't wait until we'd normally be awake. Obviously something is going on, something he needs to keep secret.

Tobias nods to me silently and I twist open the door and take a step back. As soon as Thomas is inside Tobias silently closes the door, and - if the way Thomas freezes in place is any indication - puts the gun to his head. I would chastise him for the whole thing, but I know the lecture I'd get in return so I keep my mouth shut. Once he's sure he is unarmed Tobias steps around to stand next to me.

"Who are you?" He asks harshly, slipping into Four's voice.

"Thomas Farlan, from Abnegation," I answer for him since he seems temporarily struck dumb. "I spoke to him earlier. Marcus was living with him and his brother before he disappeared." Tobias inhales sharply next to me and I realize that's not much of a recommendation. "They had to leave because of the Factionless," I add, trying to smooth things over.

"Look, I don't know what you two are doing here, but it hasn't gone unnoticed," Thomas says, voice edging into tones of a hysteria. "Since you talked to me the only way I've been able to escape the Factionless guards following me around is by pretending to be asleep and sneaking out my window!" he almost shouts.

"Well, if you want them to find you, you're doing a great job screaming your head off," Tobias says sarcastically. He pushes him aside and cracks the door open, checking to see if there's anyone in the hallway, before crossing to the window and checking out there as well. "Sit," he says sternly, dragging the single chair in the room from the wall so it faced the end of our bed and directing Thomas into it. "Talk."

He hesitates, and even in the gloom I can see his fingers twitching, his knee bouncing nervously. "I shouldn't even know this," he finally mutters. "And I didn't hear it from Marcus, but I overheard one of the other leaders mentioning that if we didn't leave the city soon we might have 'visitors'; it didn't sound like they'd be very friendly."

It's not a revelation that there are other people outside the gates, not after Edith Prior's video. What's worrying is that if they mean us harm all they would have to do is mass at the fence, cutting the city off from the life-giving food supply Amity provides. Even if they don't, we may not be able to defend ourselves because despite the refugees Dauntless is still the only faction trained to fight and our numbers are not great.

While I'm processing all that Tobias stands up and starts to pace. "Have you told anyone else this?"

"My brother, that's it."

"Has he?"

"No," Thomas says with certainty. I don't doubt it, and neither, it appears, does Tobias.

"Is doesn't explain why the Factionless are so interested in you."

"Maybe it's enough that Marcus was living with him; maybe they just assumed he knows what was going on because of it," I say.

"Maybe."

"He's not safe here either way. He has to come back to Dauntless with us, his brother and Susan too." I know the latter is going to be problematic.

"We might need them," Tobias says musingly. "A lot of the Abnegation still don't trust us after what happened. Having them helping will make things easier if we need to evacuate that part of the city."

"Why would we need to?" Thomas interrupts, bewildered.

"Aside from the Factionless? You people are just walking, talking targets unwilling to defend yourselves," Tobias says scathingly.

"Stop it," I snap.

Tobias huffs in irritation, but doesn't challenge me. "We need to leave. Now. Right now, if we want leave unnoticed by the guards. Can you get Susan?"

"I don't know, she didn't want to come with me when Robert and I talked to her earlier; she doesn't want to learn to fight."

"Tell her we'll find her a job in the Infirmary or something, anything."

"I'll try," I say rising to my feet. "What about his brother?"

"He's awake, waiting for me to come back. I think we can both get out the window without anyone noticing."

"Okay. Meet me on the backside of Johanna's office in fifteen minutes. If you're not there we're leaving without you." Tobias checks the coast is clear and then lets Thomas out the door. He stops me though, with a hand on my shoulder. "Fifteen minutes, Tris. If you can't convince Susan we have to leave her."

I swallow thickly. The idea makes me uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable, it feels wrong.

"Tris?"

"Okay," I eek out.

"Promise me."

"I promise," I say more steadily than I feel. I don't know if he believes me, but he does let me go. Luckily Susan is staying the in same building we are, and though there may be guards outside, there are none inside.

I want to bang on her door, but I know that will wake everyone up, so I force myself to knock on her door just as Thomas knocked on ours. A minute later it opens to reveal Susan clutching her robe around herself, hair loose and tangled. I ignore her spluttering and push my way into her room.

She winces as I grab her shoulders, either out of shock or pain, but I don't stop because I need her to realize how urgent the situation is. "You need to come with me. Back to Dauntless, and we need to leave now, Susan."

"I can't... what are you talking about?"

"You're not safe here. I need you to come with me, and if you don't so help me I'll have Robert drug you and stuff you in an apple barrel and deliver you to Dauntless!" I say desperately, though it's probably true I could make that happen; Robert is more worried about her than I am.

"I don't understand," she says slowly. "Has something happened?"

I bite my lip, debating. I know what happened to Thomas won't be enough to convince her to leave; frightening as it is, it's something she would easily brush off. But even if it's not an outright threat, it's behavior that promises violence, and Susan... it's not that she has no will to survive, it's that she has zero sense of when she's in danger. I'm not sure which one is worse, so I lie. Sort of.

"Yes, something happened," I say without being specific. And then I do something worse. "When I saw Marcus he wanted save haven in Dauntless for himself and the what remains of Abnegation. Now that he's gone... we will need your help - and the Farlan's help - in case we need to evacuate that part of the city."

Susan is Abnegation to the core, and as my appeal to her selflessness sinks in I can feel her muscles relax under my hands. "Okay," she says nervously, wiggling out from under my grip and moving to the dresser to pull clothes out.

"Nothing you can't shove in a bag and carry. And hurry we only have ten minutes to meet Tobias or he'll leave without us," I remind her. It would probably have been more accurate to say, 'or Tobias will drag me back to Dauntless by my hair if he has to and leave you here'.

It feels like the minutes speed by, and I silently berate myself for not grabbing my knife and bag before I left my room because it means wasted time having to go back and get them, but there's nothing else to do. There's a Dauntless guard waiting for me though, bag and knife in one of his large hands, and his gun in the other.

He nods to me reassuringly, but I have to prod Susan forward, even the sight of him is enough to intimidate her. It might be for me too, but despite his imposing stature and bald head decorated in tattoos he's Dauntless and so am I, and obviously he's here to help us.

He hesitates at the door that leads outside, but it feels cursory. I don't ask where the Factionless guard that's supposed to be there is. I have a feeling it's better not to know. He stays in front us, leading us through the maze of buildings, always carefully peeking around them before letting us out in the open to cross from one to the other.

The Farlan's are milling around as Tobias and Johanna pour over a small map, but the look on his face when he spots me is pure relief. Our guard stands by stoically, keeping watch.

"Robert," Susan suddenly whispers. "He'll panic if he wakes up and I'm gone."

"He'll know you came with us, once it's discovered who is missing," I say soothingly, but she still looks unsure. I wait until Johanna and Tobias' impromptu meeting concludes and we're saying our farewells to ask her to tell Robert what happened, and finally Susan looks mollified.

Tobias leads us through the orchards and into the fields, away from the road that leads to the fence and the train and the city. It makes sense; clearly we want to put as much distance between us and Amity and make sure no one notices we're gone until it's too late. I am surprised though, that we retain our guard, but it's probably a good thing since my hands are full keeping Susan upright and moving forward as she stumbles her way through the dark.

In the predawn hours it's bitterly cold, our breath escaping in thick white plumes. We're all well padded against it, but after a while my nose feels frozen and my fingers start to loose feeling where they're gripped around Susan's elbow.

Whatever route we're taking is circuitous, and we have to stop several times just so that Tobias can pull the map and a handheld device that has a small screen displaying two strings of numbers and a small compass so we know where we are in relation to where we're supposed to be. But when the first rays of dawn lighten the eastern sky the fence comes into view.

We stop and rest, warming ourselves up with thermoses of coffee and tea before attempting to scale it. I expect Susan to shrink at the challenge, but she visibly steels herself and claws her hands into the chainlink. The height is unnerving - fifteen feet straight up -, but if you don't look down it's not too bad.

Wherever we are there are no train tracks, and it occurs to me that we might be making our back to Dauntless entirely on foot. For a moment exhaustion crushes me. Most of us have barely slept - Tobias hasn't slept at all -, and I have no idea how much further we have to go. I keep my mouth shut though; whining about it won't make the distance any less.

Hours later when the sun is high in the sky and we finally file through the door of the Pire we're exhausted, bedraggled, and everything hurts. Never have I been happier to see Tori, including when I found out she had survived the simulation attack and escaped Erudite. Of course it might have something to do with the food for us she had brought up to the conference room beckoning warm and inviting.

Once we eat and Abnegation among us tell her and Harrison what they told us, they become my problem as Tobias and the other leaders grapple with the greater problems they present. I have to find them rooms, makes sure they have beds and fresh linens, assign them jobs. As they follow me around Dauntless like wide-eyed pets I point out the dining room, infirmary, and shops.

Luckily Tobias' old apartment is empty as is the one next to it. The Farlan brothers room together, but I don't want to leave Susan alone, so I find one of our Abnegation trainees - Rebecca - to stay with her; I know if she doesn't have someone holding her hand she'll never leave the room.

'Fear God Alone' is still emblazoned in blue on the wall, but both girls shrug indifferently when I tell them they're free to paint over it if they like. I know this room so well, down to the faint boot mark on the ceiling from when Tobias came home drunk one night and kicked his shoes off so forcefully they left that reminder, or so he told me. It looks strange with two single beds and beat up couch and table, but by the time I leave Susan and Rebecca are well on their way to making it their new home.

I feel drugged as I walk through the Pit, head spinning and disconnected from my body. My limbs are heavy with fatigue and instead of taking the stairs to the Pire I huddle in the service elevator. I wonder if Tobias will be in bed already on my way up, but our bed is empty and cold when I fall into it. I pull a pillow over my head to block out the late afternoon sun and fall asleep in seconds, still doing the mental math for how long I've been awake and guessing how far we walked.

* * *

The first time I wake up it's dark out, and Tobias' arm is warm and heavy slung across my middle. I struggle out of my pants which have become an annoying constriction, but my eyes are too fuzzy to focus on the glow of the digital clock to see what time it is, and I'm too tired and achy to really care anyway.

The second time I wake up I'm molded against his back and he smells like sweat and exhaustion. My mouth is parched and though I'd rather stay in bed it drives me to my feet. I'm stiff and sore as I stumble into the kitchen and grab a few bottles of water out of the fridge. I drain one along with a few pain pills and he mumbles something unintelligible when he feels my arms wrap around him again.

The third time I'm called into wakefulness by Tobias' shifting around uncomfortably, and once my eyes peel open I'm too awake to go back to sleep and too tired to get up and take the shower I know I need. The clock reads four in the morning and I realize with a shock that it's been a full twenty four hours since we left Amity. It feels like a lifetime ago.

It takes him another half hour to give up on sleep and pull me close. He doesn't say anything for a long time, just keeps smoothing his hand up and down my arm resting on his chest and pecking the occasional kiss to my hair. "Tori and Harrison knew about Marcus," he says eventually. "One of the other Abnegation leaders talked to him on the first day of the trials and they sent out a few people to look for him. They didn't find anything."

His voice is annoyed and I don't know if it's because he was kept out of the loop or because he thinks it was a waste of resources. Probably both. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he says with finality.

I huff in annoyance because there is and his shutting me out is like my unwillingness to stay alive, but I know pushing him is the wrong thing to do. If anything it will just make him even more resistant because sometimes we are too much like each other. "What are you going to do about the Abnegation?"

"I don't know yet," he says as he rubs at his face in frustration. "I don't know if we can realistically support them here; Dauntless was never designed to house that many people. There's a building on the east side of the Pire we could fix up and house them in, but it's going to take time. Harrison is going over there today to meet with him, so we're having someone take his place in the judging of the fear landscapes."

My head pops up to squint at the glow of the clock. I completely forgot our trainees were going through their fear landscapes today. Luckily Christina said she would make sure they're all there, but I still have to be there, and so does Tobias to judge them. I flop back down; we've still got hours until the appointed time.

"Do you want to try and go back to sleep?"

"No. I'm too awake for that," I say, snuggling closer to him, desperate to hold on as other thoughts invade my mind. "This feels bad, Tobias, like the city is dividing up for war again."

"I know." He rolls over, pinning me under him with a leg between mine and his hands on either side of my face. "I need to know you're going to try to stay alive, Tris. I can't go through that again with you."

He tries to keep his voice calm but I can hear the fear in it, the desperation that mirrors my own, and it clenches around my heart painfully. There's a part of me that wants to snap, 'if you will, I will,' but this isn't a time for a quid pro quo. Instead I reach up, cradle his cheek in my hand and whisper, "always".

And like it was in Amity his relief is unmistakable. Even if he doesn't articulate it I can feel it radiating off of him as he kisses me. Quickly, our kisses turn hungry, demanding; the kind of kisses that leave me wanting more and feeling like I'll never be sated. I toss his shirt away and blindly trace the designs that are a permanent part of him, enjoying the feel of the way his muscles move under my touch when he rids me of my panties and slips first one finger, and then another inside of me.

I missed this. I missed feeling this need for him. I missed feeling him warm and solid and steady over me. I missed wanting more of him. And that thought pulls me up short. Of course he's a teenaged boy so he's probably always thinking about sex in one way or another, and me saying 'hey, I really want to have sex with you' would be all the permission he needs, but I'm not sure I can do that. The thought alone is kind of mortifying because as much as I do want to sleep with him, I'm not Christina, not used to having to give those desires voice.

"Hurts?" He asks stilling his hand when he notices me biting my lip.

"Wha... don't stop!" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, and all I want to do is cover my face with my hands and hide from my humiliation when I feel him chuckle. "Jerk," I halfheartedly mumur, but his lips on my neck make me forget everything else for a while.

It just feels so good. Like everything inside of me is alive at his touch. I can feel him from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and finally it's too much, and I grab his wrist. "I'm not ready to finish yet," I mumble, hoping that's enough to convey what I want.

"Are you sure?" The nervousness in his voice makes me smile because I'm nervous too.

"Positive."

"Tell me if it hurts, if you need me to stop," he says hastily, fumbling as he tries to shimmy out of his boxers and keep touching me at the same time. He doesn't miss though the way my muscles tense, anticipating the pain of last time as he positions himself at my entrance. He grabs onto my hip, reminds me to breathe, and makes me look at him in the soft dawn light reflecting through our window from the buildings around us.

He rocks into me a careful inch, and back out, each time sinking deeper until he's fully inside of me. "Okay?"

It doesn't feel as great as his fingers did, but it's not painful, just a little burn following the stretch. "Fine," I nod. "Just go slow at first."

"Are you sure?" He asks again and I feel like rolling my eyes.

" _Yes_."

"Tell me when to go faster."

The longer he goes on talking the further and further I can feel my release slipping away from me, so I knot a hand into his hair and press my lips to his, encouraging him, and mercifully he starts moving. A minute later it stops hurting completely and just feels good. Not as good as before, but good nonetheless.

Of course without the pain distracting me like the first time I've got a million things flitting through my head, chief among them, what to do with my legs. I can't just let them flop there, so I try wrapping one around him, but it's hard to find purchase to keep it there with him moving, and I'm not sure it's the best solution anyway since it constrains him a bit. I settle for pressing my thighs against his hips and the rest of my legs tangled in his.

Still, it doesn't seem right just laying there, letting him do all the work if for no other reason than I feel scattered, not really focused on him in the way I was earlier. He shifts around and ends up pulling my hair so harshly I hiss in pain and we have to stop altogether for a minute so I can twist it around and secure it behind my head and now it's just starting to feel awkward instead of charged.

I try to keep my hands and lips busy, try to focus on him, but nothing really seems to be helping. "Do you want to go on top?" He asks, a little breathless from exertion, and it makes me wonder if he can feel the energy slipping away between us.

"I don't... I don't know how to do that," I stutter, instantly nervous.

"I'll help you," he says reassuringly. "It might be better... for you, I mean."

I swallow down the lump my throat, full of worry that this might not be working for him either, and I won't be any better on top of him than I am under him. "Okay," I say uncertainly.

He rolls off, settling himself on the bed before coaxing me on top, his hands gentle and patient, his whole being exuding tenderness. It reminds me of being in the training rooms, of him teaching me how to fight and telling me to always keep tension in my stomach. He guides me with one hand and lines our bodies up with the other, allowing me to sink down slowly on top of him.

My face scrunches up a little once he hits something solid inside of me. "Hurts?"

"No," I shake my head, trying to find the words for what I'm feeling. "Just... deep, I guess. It doesn't hurt, exactly."

"Are you sure?"

"It's fine," I snap, annoyed with having to answer that question yet again.

He doesn't look like he believes me, but he doesn't argue either. I let his hands guide me up and down, and once we work out a rhythm between us I can feel him relax again. His hands start venturing away from my hips, up my sides to my chest, and back down again. His eyes seem transfixed on me, and though it's nothing but loving, it still reminds me of everything I'm not, makes me wish I had curvy hips and heavy breasts. His gaze leaves me feeling exposed, on display, vulnerable in a way I wasn't when I was safely under him.

"Tris?"

My eyes snap open and I hadn't even realized I pinched them shut in the first place. I don't know what my face must look like, but Tobias' expression is full of concern. "I don't like this." My voice sounds fragile, on the brink of tears.

He swings up, one arm around my waist and the other reaching up to touch my cheek. "What's wrong?"

More than anything I want to ask for my shirt back. I think I could do this if I was covered. Or if the lights were out and he couldn't see me. But all that does is frustrate me because Tobias has seen me like this before, told me he loves me and thinks I'm beautiful and wants me. And I'm not just going to throw my shirt on and give in to my fear.

I bow my head to his shoulder, thinking of ways that I can make this more bearable. And it takes me a minute to realize that this is okay, him sitting up. I like the feel of him against me, and I don't feel as exposed now. "Can you stay sitting up?" I ask, my voice an inch tall. "Do you think that will work?"

"We'll make it work," he reassures me.

We start moving again, but even with him lifting a little it's hard to find a consistent rhythm, but he scoots us a little closer to the pillows I can keep one arm around his shoulders and the other braced on the wall and slowly it starts to feel good again. Better than good, even though a thin layer of sweat breaks out across my skin and my hair refuses to stay tucked behind my ears.

As I slide down he surges up and hits something inside of me that leaves me whimpering his name and a smug smile turning up his lips. It still feels deep, but now it doesn't feel weird just feels good. So amazingly good. And it helps that I don't have to play fifty questions because now I can focus on the way his chest feels against my nipples and how one of his hands in splayed between my shoulder blades, holding me firmly while he nips at me.

And even though it's a little awkward when his free hand slips between us I just don't care because it's all I need to come with a cry that I try and muffle in his neck. And in my haze I don't care either when he tips me backwards onto the bed and thrusts into me harshly, chasing his own end. By the time the last vestiges of my orgasm leave he stiffens in my arms and spills inside of me.

He collapses on top of me and it should feel uncomfortable and restraining, but I like it. I like it even more when he peels his forehead off my shoulder and looks at me with a goofy, boyish grin plastered across his face that he can't seem to get rid of the rest of the morning.


	15. Chapter 15

As I watch Michael comes out of his landscape; shaking, sweating, looking as wasted as if he's been suffering an illness. But it doesn't stop him walking right up to Christina where she's leaning up against the wall on the opposite side of the room from me. I can't hear what they're saying, but from the way she blushes and looks down at her hands I can guess what he's asking her. And if her smile is anything to go by I know what her answer is.

Tobias walks out once the last trainee has gone through the landscape, leaning on the patch of wall in front of me, a small smile turning up his lips. "You know if you don't stop smiling Christina's going to be insufferable," I point out.

He smiles wider, reaching out and running a hand up my arm to my neck before leaning down to my ear. "I think she's pretty well occupied, but if she's going to talk anyway...," he trails off, pressing his lips to mine. "Has she been torturing you all morning? Making you spill your guts because she's still too much of a Candor?" He teases when he pulls away, slipping an arm around my shoulders as we weave our way towards the door.

"She doesn't need to," I snicker. "You still can't wipe that grin off your face."

"Well, you're just that good," he whispers in my ear, just for me to hear. I roll my eyes, but my cheeks still flame crimson at the reminder of how we spent our morning.

Just as we cross into the main room of the Pire there's a commotion, the mood shifting from celebratory - now that the last trainee has completed the landscape - to something apprehensive and fearful. For a second all I can think about is the lobby at Candor when the Erudite attacked, and the fact that people are pulling out guns and shouting only reinforces that.

Tobias cuts in front of me, craning his neck to look out the glass doors and I latch onto the back of his shirt unwilling to let him go. His arm shoots up and he waves to someone, and a second later Tori appears by our side. He reaches back, twisting his fingers into mine and leads me through the throng of people towards the front and out the doors.

Once we're clear of the crowd I can see three beat up trucks, Evelyn and Edward slipping out of one, a half dozen Factionless coming out of the others. I'm hyper-aware of the Dauntless behind us, guns drawn, and heaviness of the air, as if the tension between the two groups was a physical thing.

Evelyn doesn't even try to hide the sneer on her face at our linked hands. "We found who attacked you on the train," she says to Tobias, pointing to the bed of the truck. Edward flips back a tarp, revealing several bodies. " Nest of Erudite's up at the far north of the city," she explains.

"How convenient that they're all dead," Tobias says flatly.

"They fought back," Edward shrugs. "Left us no choice but to kill them."

Tobias' jaw tightens. I know what he wants to say. He wants to say there's always a choice. Instead he points to one of the bodies and says, "You the one who put that bullet hole in her chest?"

I follow the path of his finger. I don't recognize the girl at first. Her hair is knotted and ratty and her skin sallow, but after a minute I recognize her as Edward's ex-girlfriend, Myra. I look up at his face as much to see his reaction as to avoid vomiting at the sight of the blood and gore dripping out of the crater in her chest.

His mask of forced indifference slips for a moment, revealing not grief, but glee. "Yeah," he says and he has to work hard to keep the corners of his lips down so they don't turn up in a proud smile. He's more sickening than the bodies and for a moment I have to look away from the scene entirely.

"Guess that's one way to handle getting dumped," Tobias snaps, his voice reflecting the disgust I feel.

There's the rattle of metal as Edward makes a threatening move towards Tobias, but it's not the Dauntless guns lifting up to meet him that stops him, it's Evelyn's hand on his arm, as soothing and maternal as the voice she whispers in to him in to calm him down.

Tobias' eyes narrow at the pair of them. I can't say that I'm surprised. Edward has always been brutal, vicious, and vindictive, all qualities that Evelyn herself values and embodies. He is her perfect son, the one she always wanted Tobias to be through the war and ever since, the one Tobias never would be. Her flaunting it seems especially cruel though.

Once she's got her surrogate son under control she steps up to where Tori and Tobias and I are lined up in front of the Dauntless, effectively blocking me out of the conversation by using her body as a shield. "There's something else," she says quietly, leader-to-leader now that she's addressing her flesh-and-blood son.

Even though she's got her back to me it makes my skin crawl to be this close to her, not out of fear, but out of revulsion, the same way it would when faced with a particularly disgusting bug.

"We found Marcus' body." I can't see her expression or Tobias, but with the way his hand tightens around mine convulsively I don't need to see it. My heart gives an unpleasant lurch and I don't know if it's because I actually knew him, or because I feel guilty for not bringing him back to Dauntless the day we met in the church.

"It's a good thing it's been so cold," Edward scoffs where he's leaning up against the truck. "His skin's gone kinda chartreuse and he stinks, but if this had happened in the summer all we would have found was a puddle of goo wrapped in grey."

"Where is it?" Tobias' voice it tight and measured and he lets go of my hand to follow his mother and Edward to the back of another truck, Tori following in their wake. After a minute his eyes find mine and he nods, a movement so slight I'm probably the only one who notices it. His face is carefully empty of any emotion as he shares a few words with Evelyn, and then pushes his way through the crowd and back into the building.

I follow him, even though I'm not sure if he wants me to, and over the rumble of trucks coming to life again I hear Tori make the announcement to the Dauntless and refugees that have spilled out on the pavement.

By the time I catch up to Tobias he's walking through the door of the control room and I lock it behind us. When I turn around he's gripping the back of his desk chair, knuckles white and head bowed. I don't really know what to do or say so I walk up behind him and slip my arms around his waist tentatively. "I'm sorry," I say quietly, pressing myself against his back.

"Thank you," he murmurs back after a moment, laying one hand across mine where they're stacked on his stomach. "I need to...," he starts and then coughs to clear away the thickness in his throat. "There's some things I need to do before the banquet. I'll see you there?"

I recognize the dismissal for what it is and after a quick peck to the raven tattoo on his neck I slip out of the room. If he wants to be alone right now I can give him that.

xxxx

"Do you really think Myra was one of the people who attacked Four and killed Marcus?" Christina asks from the bathroom where she's applying a fresh face of makeup before changing clothes for the banquet.

I open my eyes, running my fingers through my hair as I lay draped across her bed, trying to sort out the thoughts in my head. This answer isn't one I have to give a lot of thought too though. "No."

"Me neither," she says, walking out and sifting through her closet, looking for something festive, I guess, or maybe just sexy since she's finally free to put the moves on Michael. "Aren't you going to change?"

I cut her a look that clearly tells her that's the last thing I'm going to do.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her face puckering into lines of worry.

A mirthless laugh bubbles up my throat and I hide behind my hands. "Do you think he blames me?"

"Who blames you for what?"

"Tobias. If I brought Marcus back with me that day he'd still be alive."

"I think he'd just be happy he's dead. I would be."

Of course she would be. She still lives in a world of black and white, not grey. Even though he never deserved it, if Tobias didn't love Marcus just a little he wouldn't have been such a permanent fixture in his fear landscape, wouldn't have been able to hurt him the way he had. No matter how much he hates his father there's still going to be a shred of grief there, the same way there is for me with Caleb.

"Kinda weird that Evelyn was the one who killed him, but I guess she had more reason than most." I look at her, cocking an eyebrow and asking for an explanation. "Ugh... they were all sketchy as hell. The only time Edward told the truth was when he was talking about Myra; it was the only time his hands were relaxed."

And there's the benefit of being born Candor. I had a sense that something was off, but Christina's eyes saw what I felt.

I groan, pushing myself up. "We're going to be late if we don't leave soon," I remind her.

The mood is subdued as we walk through the Pit and into the dining hall. There aren't any Abnegation around; they're probably off quietly mourning their fallen leader somewhere. I sit down next to Uriah and Zeke where they're perched on top of one of the tables, the former handing me a brown bottle of alcohol and squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

"That's disgusting," I say after taking a sip.

Zeke laughs, loud and booming, his face already flushed from drinking. "Told you beer tastes like horse piss," he says to Uriah.

"And how would you know?" He shoots back, a smirk tilting up one corner of his mouth.

Zeke ignores the jibe. "Here, Tris, try this."

He hands me a cup full of cranberry juice. It burns on the way down on the way it never did in Abnegation, but it's not bad. "What's in it?"

"Secret recipe," Zeke says.

"So adding a little vodka to cranberry juice is a 'secret recipe' now?" Uriah scoffs.

I laugh a little, despite everything. It's so easy being around Zeke and Uriah.

As the crowd grows restless and impatient there's the screech of a microphone being turned on and all eyes fall of Tori, flanked by Tobias and Harrison. She gives a short speech, explaining the differences between what our trainees went through and Dauntless' old initiation process. I feel like hiding behind Uriah when she makes Christina and I stand up for a round of applause, but something like pride crosses Tobias' face as he claps and it goes a long way to unraveling the nervous knot in my chest.

Once she finishes her spiel the rankings are revealed, shouts going up from the friends of the people who did well. Most everyone is planning on getting completely trashed tonight, and after the day I've had I can certainly see the appeal, but it's just not who I am. Drinking to forget something that will still be there in the morning seems so pointless.

I see Tobias slip out of the door, and I can at least understand that. I load a plate with slices of pizza and follow him out, though I am waylaid by trainees asking about what kind of jobs they're now eligible for and a dozen or so people I barely know asking me to pass on their condolences to Tobias.

Tobias isn't at our favourite spot at the bottom of the Chasm, or the Control Room and when I walk into our apartment to find it dark and empty I can only assume he's going through his fear landscape. It seems like the height of masochism to do it tonight of all nights, but there's nothing I can do to stop him. I eat a slice of pizza, put the rest in the fridge and crawl in bed simply because I don't have the motivation to do anything else.

An hour later I'm still laying there in the dark when I hear Tobias come in. He leans against the doorway to the bedroom. "You asleep?" He asks quietly.

"No." Still, he treads lightly across the floor and sits down gently on the edge of the bed. "I brought some pizza home if you're hungry."

"I'm okay."

"So is he still in your landscape?"

"How did you...?"

"I couldn't find you. I figured thats where you were."

"Yeah, he is." He sighs heavily and rubs at his face. "I feel like I'm never going to be free of him," he chokes out, shoulders heaving with the effort of suppressing his frustration and grief.

I pull him down next to me, wrapping him in my arms protectively because I don't know what else to do, because it's what he did for me after my parents died. His hands knot into the back of my shirt as he clutches at me, face buried against my chest. And it hurts me listening to him cry, feeling him shake against me. It makes me feel impotent that the best I can do is this, silently holding him through whatever pain he's feeling, pain that I will never fully understand because we grew up so differently.

By the time he finishes my shirt is wet and his voice is hoarse, but we both ignore those things. "I'm sorry," he says, pushing me away to wipe at his face in embarrassment.

"Hey," I grab his hand and reach out to wipe his face myself. "It's...," I stumble awkwardly looking for the right words. "I don't want you to hide it from me."

"I know, I just hate how fucking weak it makes me."

"It doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. More human than that creep Edward," I snap before I can stop myself.

I wish I could reel the words back in, the last thing Tobias needs right now is a reminder of Evelyn andte one more parent whose standards he couldn't meet, but he frames my face with his hands and gently presses his lips to mine.

* * *

"So...," Uriah says as he pulls back the string on his bow. "What do you think of this Michael guy?" There's a snap and low whistle before his arrow impacts at the edge of the target with a dull thud.

I let my shot fly, and it hits the bullseye. Again. Uriah scowls at me. After the initial awkwardness it only took me a few tries to hit my target with ease, much to his annoyance. "Are you jealous? About Michael, not your sad attempts to outdo me," I tease.

He knocks into my side, playfully. "No, not really. It's just weird, you know? It's not like she's my girlfriend and we broke up."

"I wouldn't know, actually," I say as I shoot another arrow.

He chuckles to himself. "No, I guess you wouldn't. Yes! Finally!" He shouts as he hits the bullseye himself. He turns to look at me, smug smile breaking across his face. I wipe it off with another shot. "Showoff," he mutters, going to retrieve the arrows so we can start all over again.

"Explain it to me?"

His eyebrows shoot up. "Really?"

"You wouldn't have brought it up if unless you wanted to talk about it, so, talk about it."

He sighs, collecting his thoughts as he strings another arrow. "If I think about it, I don't want to be with her. We've been friends for a year and sleeping together for months and if I was going to fall for her I would have by now. But all my experience up to now has been... different. I just don't know how to deal with her finding someone new."

His arrow hits the upper left side of the target and he swears under his breath. "Like my brain is telling me I should be jealous and sad, but my heart is just like 'whatever' about it. I mean I miss her, but that's mostly because-"

"Stop talking," I say hastily, cutting him off before I learn even more about what went on between him and Christina; frankly, I've heard enough from her to last a lifetime.

"You're still so modest; it's adorable," he teases.

"Shut up, or I'll shoot you next."

The door opens behind us and Tobias slips inside.

"Your girlfriend is terrifying," Uriah smirks as Tobias slips in the door of the training room. He chuckles to himself, but doesn't say anything, just leans against the wall and watches as I put another arrow into the center of the target. "Seriously, never used bow before and after four shots she's hitting the center ring every time."

"Come on, I need you guys upstairs," Tobias says gravely, in complete contrast to Uriah's joking.

Uriah gives me a look, asking silent questions, but I just shake my head. I have no idea what's going on with the leadership. Every time I've asked Tobias he's told me he would tell me when he knew more.

"So what do you think of the bows?" He asks as we walk through the Pit.

"They're good; very quiet," Uriah answers before I can.

"Lethal?"

"Could be, I guess. I'd rather use a gun though."

The elevator ride up to Tori's apartment is a quiet one. I'm surprised by how many people are waiting for us though. Tori, of course, and Harrison sitting next to Liam on the couch and talking to Bud. Zeke and Shauna are there too, along with Christina and Cara. There's three other people I recognize from around the compound, but I don't know their names; they look to be about Tori's age. There aren't enough seats, so Tobias and I lean against the kitchen counter.

"I know you're all wondering what you're doing here," Tori starts once everyone quiets down. "The simple answer is that we want to find people to venture outside the fence. Harrison and Four and I trust you all, and we want your input before we do anything though."

"What's the long answer?" Bud asks.

"For all we know it's a suicide mission," Tobias says, pushing himself away from the counter to address the room at large. He goes on to catalog all the things we don't know, the dangers they might face. There's a whole series of booby-traps outside the fence that we didn't know existed before, information he pulled off Amity's computers while he was getting rid of the virus. The only question he can't answer is why we need to do it, why we need to leave, at least to anybodies satisfaction, even mine.

Eventually the room goes quiet, people furrowing their brows and chewing on their lips as they mull the situation over. It's one of the people I don't know who asks the question I want to. "So what do you want from us? Volunteers?"

"If you want to, I don't think anyone would object," Harrison says. "But what we really want is your advice and your help. We can't send just anybody and we need to prepare them as much as possible for whatever they might face." He quickly runs down the list of skills they'll need, the type of personalities he and Tori and Tobias think will fare best out in the unknown. It becomes clear the reason Christina and I are there, they're hoping we'll oversee the extra training whoever is chosen will have to go through before they leave.

Names are bantered about, some I know, some I don't. To my surprise Uriah puts forward his name, and is immediately shot down by Zeke. He grouses that unlike his brother he has no reason to stay behind, but his cavalier attitude about it, like it's some big adventure rubs me the wrong way too.

By the time we break up for dinner nothing has been decided, and Tori asks us all to meet again in a few days when we've all had a chance to think about it. "Do you want to go downstairs to eat?" I ask Tobias as head towards the elevator.

"I'd rather stay in," he says. I'm not surprised by it. He hasn't said anything more about Marcus, but he's been avoiding people as much as possible, and when he's around them is quicker to anger. His nightmares have been worse too, bad enough that his thrashing and yelling wakes us both us several times a night. He's offered more than once to sleep on the couch, but I won't let him. I don't really know why, other than it feels like defeat to let him.

Once we're in the privacy of our apartment he starts pulling food from the fridge, cooking dinner to assuage his guilt at keeping me up with his nightmares. "Sit," he says when I try to help, shooing me to the couch.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know if I'd find anything on Amity's computers, and Tori and Harrison and I agreed not to tell anyone anything until we knew more." There's the scrape of a pan and then the click as the stove comes to life. "If it makes you feel any better Liam was kept in the dark too."

It doesn't, not really, though I know it should. And it takes me until he finishes cooking dinner to figure out why. The plate of chicken and vegetables he sets in front of me is simple, but it feels like home. He stabs at his carrots, neatly spearing a stack of them on the tines of his fork. "Do you want to leave?" I finally ask him. "You said before that you were planning on leaving Dauntless."

He goes completely still for a moment, eyes refusing to meet mine. "I stopped running when I met you," he says quietly.

I can't help gaping at him. Tobias isn't a romantic, but sometimes he says things like this and it makes me feel like my body is too small to hold all the love I have for him. There's nothing I can say to his confession that won't seem trite, so instead I lace my fingers through his, giving his hand a firm squeeze. He seems to understand what I'm trying to say.

"Are you very tired?" He asks when we finish, setting our dirty plates on the coffee table and pulling me into his lap.

"Depends on what you have in mind. I don't think I'm up climbing up any Ferris wheels tonight."

His chuckle is low and throaty and even before he starts kissing my neck I know that's not even remotely close to what he has in mind.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a short chapter, but hopefully the lemony goodness of it makes up for that. This picks up right where the last one left off.

Times like these - times when it feels like Tobias can't bear taking his hands off me - make me wonder why people get so excited for cake and fizzy drinks and ice cream, because this is a much better way to finish a meal. Just the feel of his hands sliding up the back of my thighs, fingers curling to press inside of them as he pulls me closer so his hips can press against mine is more delicious than any food I've ever tasted.

"You didn't answer my question," I remind him, nipping at his neck.

"What was the question again?"

I smile, tipping my face against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his hand splaying across my back, lifting my shirt higher as it travels up to my shoulder. "What do you have in mind?"

"A lot less clothes," he says, pulling my shirt off over my head.

"Yeah?" I chuckle.

"Mmhmm," he mumbles, pressing his lips against my raven tattoos. He palms one of my breasts in his hand, fingers itching at the lace edge of my bralette. I don't know if he's just being polite by leaving it on me, or if he's happy enough feeling how hard my nipple is against his palm, and I feel too good to really care.

He pulls away just enough that I can feel his lips form the words against my skin when he asks if he can go down on me. I pull away a little bit more, framing his face in my hands, trying to read his expression. "Please?" I recognize the tone of voice as the same one I used to use with my mother when I was little and begging for something I knew I probably wasn't going to get.

I lean in slow, pressing my chest flush with his, carding my fingers through his hair as I kiss him. It's slow and gentle and loving, covering the nervous flutter I feel at the prospect. We've never done that before, but I can tell he really wants to, and if I'm honest, I want him to. "Yes."

He smiles against my lips, arms cinching around my waist. I kiss him until my lungs are screaming for air, until I'm gasping for breath when I pull away. "We should take this to the bedroom," he says, kissing a trail across my shoulder.

"Okay."

A second later I shriek in surprise as he picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. I can't help smiling at his enthusiasm though. I pull his shirt off with me when he lays me gently on the bed. "That's better."

Tobias folds over me, resting easily in the cradle of my legs. Even like this, separated by layers of clothes his weight and warmth on me is heady, dizzying. I let him lead me, let him deepen our kiss and press me into our bed. He doesn't seem to be in a rush, letting his hands roam over my body languidly, and that's fine with me because I'm far from tired now. And I let my hands explore his body too. I'll never get enough of feeling his muscles tensing and relaxing under my hands, the way his skin flushes at my touch, the way his heart hammers against his ribs when my fingers skirt the waist of his pants.

He noses at the strap of my bra, nudging it off my shoulder before hooking a finger around it and pulling it down just enough to expose the hardened tips of my breast before sliding his hand down my side. He tugs on my jeans, unbuttoning the fly and working the zipper down, but all I can focus on is the wet warmth of his mouth, my breath coming shallow and ragged at the pleasure I feel with every flick of his tongue across my nipple.

His hips roll against mine feeding the hot, aching, tension at my center; the slick slip of my panties not even remotely providing the friction my body is craving. I don't try stifle the steady stream of of moans and sighs bleeding out of me, if anything they encourage Tobias and he spends a long time laving at my breasts. By the time he kisses down my stomach and across my hips and legs as he pulls my pants off I'm panting.

I try to steady my breathing, pushing my hands up into my hair and taking slow, measured breaths. "You're going to have to help me," he says. His voice sounds far away and all I can do it nod weakly, too consumed by my need for him to do anything more than that.

He kisses my ankle and I smile wanly, remembering the night in our old apartment that feels like it happened a million years ago. I was so nervous then, scared of him seeing me, of being bare, not just naked, in front of him. And I'm nervous now too, but it's nothing like what it was then. This is the same nervousness I felt climbing that Ferris wheel and jumping into the net and a hundred other things I've done since I left Abnegation behind. It's exhilarating even though there are worries itching at the back of my brain, but I block them out, reminding myself how much I enjoyed taking him in my mouth, the first time in the shower and all the times since.

Tobias kisses up my leg, curling his fingers around my knee to spread them open enough that he can rest between my thighs. They twitch at the tickle of his hair and he chuckles. I push at his hip with my foot, annoyed, but all it does is make him smother it in my flesh, pulling my skin into his mouth with enough force to leave a mark. My head snaps up, and I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Too much?" He asks nervously, thumb rubbing across the bruise like he can erase it.

"No," I eek out, letting my head fall back. Definitely not too much judging by the jolt of pleasure it sent through me. "Just unexpected."

"Good unexpected, or bad?"

"Good."

"Good," he parrots back, sounding satisfied.

He presses a kiss against my mound and I try to stifle my groan in the pillow. Even through my underwear it's warm and humid and putting pressure where I want it most. But it's not enough because I'm still covered and all the tension already built up inside of me demands relief. And I get none. He hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls them down my legs, dropping them on the floor with my pants and his before starting his journey back up my other leg.

By the time he gets to the crook of my knee I'm desperate; this isn't teasing, it's torture. "Tobias," I whine as he sucks marks into my thigh, making it the twin of my other.

"If something doesn't feel good, you'll tell me right?" His face is still tilted into my thigh, but his voice is nervous and it makes me realize that he's probably drawing this out because he's unsure how to please me this way.

"I will," I promise him, reaching out to brush my fingers across his hair in, what I hope, is a reassuring way.

He props himself up on one elbow, his other hand slipping between my legs. My cheeks burn in embarrassment at how wet I am, how his fingers glide across my flesh slickly, but I can't stop my hips twitching up into his touch. I bury my face between my arm and the pillow, peeking up at him with one eye as he licks his lips and lowers himself down.

I tense at the first touch of his tongue, just the tip gliding through the seam of my sex. Tobias lifts his eyes to mine, looking for approval and I nod. He face dips back down, repeating the action, each pass pushing further between my folds and I can feel the tension building, rising inside of me, feeding the need for release he created with his first touch. He pulls away, switching back to his fingers for a moment and spreading me open.

His tongue resumes it's path, traveling up and down, and this time on each pass it slips inside my entrance a little at the bottom, and brushes past my clit at the top. Even if Tobias wasn't going as slow as he is trying map out uncharted territory I can tell he's nervous just from the set of his shoulders. I reach down again, gently toying with a few of his curls, trying to silently encourage him.

The action makes him bold enough to slip his tongue fully inside of me, just briefly at first, but then becoming a part of his pattern. I frown, trying to find the words to tell him it's not doing anything for me. It doesn't feel bad or weird or anything, it's just not... enough, I guess.

When I feel him pull away I snap my eyes to his. His brow is furrowed in concentration, like he's trying to puzzle me out. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, because on the whole he's not and the fact that he's not touching me is making the perfect, wonderful tension he's built up inside of me slip away.

" _Tris_."

I huff, annoyed with myself more than him that it's so hard to articulate what I need. "I think I need more... inside," I say, feeling humiliation light up my skin in splotchy red.

"Should I try using my fingers?" he asks uncertainly.

I shrug, just as unsure as him because I've never done this either. He lowers himself back down, licking at the taut skin between my hips and then lower. He presses a finger into me and I sigh, pleased. It's still not enough, but it's far better than his tongue. It's a little awkward at first, finding a rhythm and multitasking between his hand and his mouth, but after a few minutes it feels so good I have to work hard to keep my hips still against the bed.

" _Ohmygod_ ," I moan, back arching as his tongue finds a spot his fingers never have. My hands tighten in his hair, desperately trying to keep him right there. He chuckles softly against me, pulling one of my hands away. "Sorry," I pant, immediately letting my other hand drop too.

"It's okay," he says, kissing my palm. "I don't mind."

I almost argue with him, but then he's pressing another finger into me, and trying to find that spot again with his tongue and I don't care. His free arm loops around my thigh and keeps my hip still, and I push my hand back in hair, careful not to hurt him, to guide him.

When he finds it again I moan, loudly. He surges into me, encouraged. I watch through slitted eyes, enjoying the way his head looks between my legs, noting absently the way his hips are rutting against the sheets. Nothing has ever felt this good. Not that I haven't enjoyed Tobias touching me before, but nothing has ever felt like this. I whine with every circle and flick of his tongue, my hips jump every time he passes that one spot that's more sensitive than the rest.

I'm only half aware of the obscene sounds of his fingers and tongue, of my moans and his name and every half formed word I'm babbling because I'm so far past coherence I can't do anything more than that. My free hand finds my breast, kneading and pinching, and all of it feels so good my back bows off the bed, my shoulders digging into the mattress and neck straining, everything in me rushing towards where Tobias is at the apex of my thighs.

When his fingers curl inside of me my muscles tense, my breath catches, and with one last hard flick of his tongue I shatter. My body quake and lights burst behind my eyes and I scream out my orgasm. It seems to last forever, and I'm still shaking with it when I push Tobias away, suddenly sensitive to the point of pain. He kisses my thighs and hips and stomach, waiting for me to come down from my high, and it takes me a minute to remember he's probably eager for his release too.

"C'mere," I say, my still weak, my body still shaking as I make grabby hands at him.

He pulls himself up the bed, propping himself up on his knees between my legs. I try to guide him towards my entrance, but he pulls away. "Don't. I'm too close." He reaches between us, collecting some of my wetness on his fingers before taking himself in hand. I do the same and with both of our hands sliding over him, he comes across my stomach after a few strokes.

When he catches his breath he grabs his discarded shirt and cleans me up before tossing it aside and rolling away to rest at my side.

"It's a good thing the walls are soundproofed," he says, nuzzling against me.

"Shut up," I mutter, cheeks flushing at the reminder.

"I wasn't complaining."

It takes a while for me to do another other than lay there, lax and boneless and drained from my orgasm. But eventually I realize how sticky it is between my thighs and how my stomach itches where Tobias came and I force myself to sit up.

"Take a bath with me?"

Tobias follows me to the bathroom and leans against the vanity while I draw the bath, scowling as I pour soap into it. "You're going to make me smell like a girl, aren't you?" He teases. I roll my eyes and pull him in with me, settling at one end while he settles at the other. The bathtub comfortably fits both of us. In a few minutes sweat is beading on my face from the steam and hot water, but it's perfect, delicious like Tobias' touch was earlier.

I sink down into it, resting my head against my folded arm and watching Tobias at the other end. One of his hands smooths up and down my calf under the water as he talks, telling me about how he got the information of Amity's computers without tipping off Micah. Christina has complained, more than once, about how Uriah gets sleepy after sex. It wasn't a detail I ever wanted to know, but I can't help noticing how Tobias gets talkative after. I wonder idly if there's more too it than just the fact that he's relaxed, if he feels closer to me after we're physical, or if this is how he appeases my need to know him so I don't feel like I'm doing this stuff with a stranger.

"The Abnegation leaders asked me if I wanted to speak at the dedication of the war memorial," he says, pulling me out of my abstraction. "Because of Marcus," he adds when I give him a questioning look.

"What did you say?"

"No," he scoffs. "There's nothing to say now that he's dead. And what I'd say to him if he was alive isn't something I'm willing to tell everyone in the city."

"What would you say?" I ask before I can stop myself.

He looks up at me, and I can tell he's debating whether or not he should even tell me, but before I can apologize for asking in the first place he opens his mouth to speak.

"I don't know, really," he says slowly. "I hate him so much... there aren't words. I just wanted to scream at him; not say anything, just scream at him." He pulls my foot up out of the water, propping it against his chest as his fingers knead at the arch. "And there isn't anything he could have said to me that would have made me forgive him. If he had asked for it I would have to him to fuck off. But what I wanted, what I knew I would never get, was for him to admit what he did to me was wrong."

I know as well as he does that Marcus never would have done that, not because he had too much pride to admit making a mistake, but because he never truly saw what he did as wrong. The lies he told himself to justify beating Tobias and locking him in a closet weren't lies to him, they were truth.

Tobias drops my foot back in the water, and pulls the other one up, massaging it like it's twin. "Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or do I have to guess?" He says eventually.

"I just wish I could help you more." Because I still feel like I'm learning to swim in the deep end with Tobias' grief. It's not like what I felt when my parents died; it's a minefield of anger and bad memories and regrets.

"You do, more than you know," he says, a small smile curling up the edges of his lips.

I redirect the conversation, back to the new task of finding a group of people to go outside the fence. I mention Uriah's willingness and how it doesn't sit well with me. "I know he wants to go, but I think it's a bad idea. This thing with Christina... I don't think he's really over Marlene."

"You think he's grieving her the way you did your parents?" The word  _reckless_  hangs in the air between us.

"I think he's running away," I say, flicking at the cooling water between us.

"Maybe he needs to leave."

"On a suicide mission?" I snap.

"I don't disagree with you, I'm just saying. If you had died I probably would be the first one over the fence."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave?" I ask, all the heat gone out of my voice.

"I'm sure," he says, pulling me across the tub and meeting me in the middle to pepper kissing on my face and neck and shoulders. "Unless you want to go?"

I haven't really thought about it, but the idea that we could die... everything inside of me revolts at the idea of losing Tobias. Maybe it's cowardly to stay, but after my parents and Caleb I can't lose him too. I shake my head then rest it against his shoulder, looping my arms around his waist.

We get out of the tub eventually, the bedroom is bathed in silver light from a full moon and Tobias looks ghostly sitting on the edge of the bed. And it's that, the idea of losing him, that has me pressing him down against the bunched up blankets and sheets at the foot of the bed. There's a flicker of what I felt earlier, but mostly I just need to feel him, close and alive and mine.

He pulls me up the bed, our wet towels joining our discarded clothes on the floor. I can still taste myself faintly on his lips, sweet and pungent clinging to his gums when he opens his mouth to me. I sigh out his name when he pushes inside of me, wrapping him up with my arms around his shoulders and ankles hooked around his waist.

Tobias moves slowly, pulling all the way out and pushing slowly back in, more making love than having sex. It's what I need right now, the chance to really feel every inch of him. He murmurs little things to me, telling me he loves me over and over before we both tumble over the edge. Neither of us bother getting dressed. He pulls the blankets up over us and wraps his body around mine and we fall asleep comforted by each other.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter alternates from Tobias' POV to Tris'. I'm not really thrilled with posting it this way, but I think it makes it an easier read to have it all together.

** Tobias **

****

Being Divergent should come with better perks. I should be able to manipulate reality as easily as I can manipulate a simulation. Unfortunately trying to will the people gathered in Tris and I's apartment out for the last half hour has made no difference. They are all still crowded around the huge map spread across our kitchen table bickering with each other.

Being around them means having to perform. It means pretending to care about what they have to say and my tolerance for people has always been low at the best of times. And right now, more than anything I want to scream at Shauna, but I can't because I'm a faction leader and that's not how I'm supposed to behave. And I hate it.

"Can we please just stick to what we know," I snap, annoyed at the prospect of having to listen to Shauna harp on about her paranoid assumptions about what's outside the fence for the fourth time in as many hours. It doesn't matter to her that every time she's brought it up she's been shouted down by everyone in the room except for Zeke, and that's probably just because he has to go home with her.

"Well considering we don't really know what's outside Amity,  _Four_ , I think it's perfectly reasonable to talk about it," she snaps back.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose and willing myself to calm. It's not much more effective than willing everyone out of our home was. I could argue with her yet again that what they taught us in school has all the hallmarks of convenient lies to keep us frightened and inside the the fence, but it would be as pointless this time around as it was the last three times.

"You know, we can make machines that sample the air and water to make sure it's harmless," Cara says, her voice distant as though she's deep in thought. "And they could be quite small; about the size of a wristwatch so they would be easy to carry."

"And what good will that do them if they're up to their knees in radioactive waste?" Shauna retorts. She's not any happier with the Erudite in the room than she is with me.

Cara rolls her eyes. "Well for one thing, if we calibrate the machines right they would never get anywhere near dangerous levels of the stuff. Otherwise I guess we'll just make sure they have iodine pills and gas masks." The condescension in her voice makes me smirk. It shouldn't, but it does. "We know it's going to be dangerous Shauna, that's why it's volunteers only."

"Unless you're me, in which case it doesn't matter," Uriah grumps from one corner of the kitchen. Despite the fact he's been lobbying hard to be allowed to go outside the fence everyone thinks it's a bad idea.

"You can always come help me, Uriah," Cara says with teasing sweetness. "I need guinea pigs to see if I can successfully remove the long lasting Erudite transmitters."

"Now why would I let you do that? That's the only thing I've got going for me," he teases back. It's true in a way. If every group going outside the fence has at least one person tagged with one of the transmitters we can - in theory - monitor their progress. Of course the fact that we've got dozens of people to choose from somewhat diminishes the likelihood that Uriah would be needed for that alone.

"Cara, add those gadgets to the list of things we'll send with our groups," Tori says, trying to get the meeting back on track.

"How many do you want?"

"Two for each group, that way if one fails they'll have a backup," Harrison says, always the calm voice of reason.

"They won't fail," Cara mutters, probably offended at the very idea that something she makes  _could_  fail.

"Just being cautious," Harrison says politely, trying to smooth things over.

"Fantastic. Now that that's settled we need teams to go scout the fence," I say before Shauna can start arguing again.

"Am I allowed to do that?" Uriah asks, his voice terse and petulant.

I turn and glare at him. "Maybe if you stop acting like a fucking child, yeah." He glares back for a moment and then drops his gaze. I turn back to the group, addressing them. "Tris and I will take the south, I know a good spot there, I think."

I expect Tori and Harrison to object to my going, considering my leadership status. It's not as dangerous as going outside the fence, but the city still has it's risks; groups of Erudite and Factionless outside our control possibly, as well as sinkholes and fallen buildings and whatever mother nature can throw at us. They exchange a look, but neither of them say anything so I press on.

"When we came back from Amity we crossed the fence here," I say, pointing at the spot on the map. "There's no cover though, the buildings have rotted down to the foundations. But farther to the east I saw a cluster of buildings; whoever goes should check those out."

We quickly decide on half a dozen people, including Uriah, to carry out the necessary reconnaissance. Cara's excited because we'll get to test some her wares in the real world. I have a feeling she expects full and thorough reviews of the prototypes she's sending with us when we get back.

I feel exhaustion creeping in as Tris and Christina hand out thick manila folders full of papers. It's getting close to midnight, and this meeting won't be wrapping up anytime soon. The two of them launch into their spiel about the training program for those going outside the fence, making notes and answering questions as they go along. They've been working hard on it for a week, and that in combination with with everything else we have going on means Tris and I haven't had any time to ourselves. It's been a rare night when we get to bed before the wee hours of the morning, and when we do we're both asleep within minutes. It's part of the reason I volunteered us to check the fence.

It's one o'clock in the morning by the time they finish and if I had any illusions about people leaving once they were done talking it's wiped away immediately. Sure they're all moving towards the door, but their pace is glacial. Zeke helps me clean up, collecting all the dirty dishes while I wash them as Tris tries to politely herd people out the door.

"Surprised you didn't volunteer to go with Uriah," I mutter as he stands next to me, towel in hand to dry as I wash.

"Shauna would shit if I did."

"Why?"

"We decided on no more dangerous shit while we're trying to have a kid," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and I suppose it is.

I keep my eyes on the sink full of soapy water and dirty dishes, trying to hide the disapproval and disappointment that must show on my face at the notion. It's not that I think kids are a bad idea, it's just a bad idea now, in the world we're living in. I can't imagine bringing a new life into this chaos. Apparently my efforts aren't enough.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing," I shake my head. "It's just... you two are really doing this?"

"Yeah, we are." He tries to contain his smile, and fails utterly. "It'll be good, and we all need a little good right now."

Up until now I thought this baby was about Shauna desperately trying to replace what she lost when Lynn died, and maybe for her it is, but for Zeke it's about hope; hope of a better future, a better world than the one we live in. And I can at least understand that, even if I still think a baby is terrible idea.

Shauna wheels herself into the kitchen, depositing a few empty beer bottles on the counter and giving me the stink eye. Guess she's still feeling pissy. "You ready to go?" Zeke dries one last glass and claps me on the back in farewell.

Tris turns around, a look of relief on her face, once she locks the door behind them. She shuffles toward the bedroom and I follow after her, turning off lights as I go. Once she toes off her shoes I grab her arm and turn her around to face me. Everything about her reads exhaustion.

I cradle her face in my hands, thumbs sweeping under her eyes like I can erase the dark circles there. "I'm sorry," I murmur against her lips. I don't even know what I'm apologizing for, really. Whether it's for keeping her awake last night with my nightmares or our friends laying siege to our home.

"It's fine," she says, pulling away and running her fingers through her hair. Her lips tilt up in a wane smile as she fingers at the hem of my shirt. I pull it off, giving it to her so she has something to sleep in. A minute later she's tucking the blue quilt around us and settling in my arms.

It's so routine now, laying down on my back so she can tuck herself against my side, her head on my shoulder and an arm and a leg draped across me. After everything she's still the only person I want, the only one I don't have to put on a performance for, but I hope I never take this for granted. I still don't think the Abnegation are wrong to value touch, but treating it like it's something taboo strips us of a part of our humanity. There's something inexpressibly comforting about this, something that can't be replicated with words.

I close my eyes and rub my hand up and down her back. She hums sleepily, contentedly. Even though I know I should be sleeping on the couch, and there's a part of me that's irritated at her unwillingness to let me, there's a bigger part that swells at the thought of it, that even when it's costing her something she still stubbornly won't let Marcus come between us.

Her breathing evens out, deepens as she falls asleep, her body warm and heavy against mine in a way it isn't when she's awake. It feels protective and possessive in it's way, and I like that too. Before she literally fell into my life this was something I thought I didn't want. But I know now it was because it was something I thought I would never get, never deserve to have. Sometimes the worst wounds aren't the ones that bleed.

I wait for sleep to come but I know it's futile. My thoughts are too scattered, my body thrumming with nervous energy despite how tired I am. I can't even keep my eyes closed, and after a while I give up trying. The world outside our window is rendered in silver and black, the moon illuminating it as the sun would during the day. Forcing my eyes to remain there is about as futile as trying to keep them closed in the first place. Finally I give up and let them drift to the dresser, to the bottom drawer that has a ring hidden in the back of it and let my thoughts tendril out.

I bought it after I was thrown from the train; the first day I could actually make it down to the Pit that's what I did. It has been hidden there ever since, waiting for the right time. At first I thought I was just waiting to give it to her until I could trust her to stay alive. And not that I don't have that fear, but not giving her that ring... it was never about that. It was about me, about my inability to trust anyone, even Tris.

And that was only reinforced by her telling me that if I had asked her to marry me she would have said no, that she couldn't trust me because sometimes I felt like a stranger to her even though she loved me. That was been a bitter pill to swallow, one that made silence so much more appealing than it was before that conversation.

But that isn't who I want to be. I don't want to be the person who turned on her in Jeanine's lab; don't want to be the person who doesn't trust her enough to tell her what is going on in my head, or what I am feeling. I don't want that kind of relationship with her any more than she wants it with me.

So I changed, or am trying to anyway. Because she was - is - my choice, has been my choice since I decided to stay in Dauntless. Maybe I wasn't thinking about marriage then, but when I told her I would be her family, I meant it, ring or not. It is just hard to pluck up the courage to have the conversations we need to have with the echo of her no still ringing in my ears.

Now those conversations have piled up. Conversations about what's going on outside the fence, inside the fence, between us. But Zeke was right that day we went to Erudite when he said there is no right time. And I'm done watching my life pass me by while I wait for things to be perfect. 'Perfect' is unattainable anyway, and waiting for it is an act of cowardice. Even if she says no I want her to know that, at least for me, marriage is where this is going; I want her to know that no matter what the future holds we're in this together, that I'm not going to let anything come between us again either.

I close my eyes again, pull Tris even closer and try to lose myself in her, in her scent and warmth curling around me. The next time we sleep in this bed she might have a ring on her finger. I try to focus on that outcome and not the alternative.

* * *

**Tris**

**  
**

I crawl across our bed and shake Tobias awake. I don't know what time he got to sleep last night, but it was probably a lot later than I did. I let him sleep in as long as possible, but he's still got faint circles under his eyes.

He untangles his arms from the covers and pulls me down to him. "Come on, time to get up," I say against his neck.

"I'd rather stay here."

"You're the one who volunteered us to go check out the fence."

"Well that was a terrible idea," he deadpans.

"It was your idea," I remind him.

He groans, releasing me and sitting up. "Yeah, it was."

I hand him a cup of coffee and go into the closet, collecting a backpack and some clothes. To be honest I'm not thrilled about this either. The prospect of spending a night outside the Pire, in a strange and unfamiliar part of the city is unappealing, but maybe it will do Tobias some good, somehow balance out how unhappy he was hosting the meeting in our apartment last night. Tori said that it was only fair we did after her and Harrison hosted the last two in their apartments. Fair or not it was a terrible idea.

By the time we finish packing a change of clothes and a few toiletries there's a knock at the door. Cara pulls out the contents of a second backpack as Elia, Tobias and I watch, explaining how to use each item inside of it, or how she improved something basic like a sleeping bag. They follow us outside, mingling with the three other teams each going to a different part of the fence. Uriah's there, laughing and joking with Zeke and Shauna, happy that he can at least do something since no one seems to think it's a good idea to send him outside the fence.

When the tracks start humming with the approach of the train we say a hasty goodbye to those grouped with us and then start jogging towards the tracks. The cold, bitter wind that's blowing is only intensified by the train, and once we're inside Tobias pulls me down to the floor with him, tucking me between his legs so we can keep warm with my back against his chest and his arms around me.

Tobias is tense against me, nervous probably about what we will find when we get to our destination. I've never been to the southern part of the city before but Tobias has; last night when he volunteered us he said he 'knew a good spot' in the fence there. "So how did you find this place... whatever it is," I ask, tilting my head back against his shoulder so I don't have to shout the question over the cry of the wind.

"Later, okay?" I scowl at him, but all he does is grin and kiss me lightly.

We watch the other teams jump from the train until we're the last ones remaining. I can't remember the last Tobias and I had a train car to ourselves. Maybe the night when he showed me how the Erudite were keeping their lights on despite the city ordinances. The place where we jump off the train is barren. There are tufts of dead grass peeking up over the thin covering of slushy snow and the fence is clearly in view, and that is pretty much it. "There's tire tracks," I say, stopping dead when we come flush with the fence.

"There's patrols. We shouldn't meet anyone this time of day though," he says.

"Dauntless?" I ask, falling into line behind him as he walks in one of the ruts so as not to leave obvious footprints.

"And Factionless."

I pull my scarf tighter around me. There's a storm moving in, but it's not supposed to get really nasty until tomorrow night. If there was any moisture in the air right now I'm sure it would be snowing; it's cold enough. "You remember in lower levels science class how they used to tell us that before global warming this time of year would be considered Spring?"

"Yeah?"

"It must have been nice to have warm weather so early in the year." Tobias laughs, really laughs, and even though it's cold out I can't help feeling a little warmer at the sound. It's been too rare lately. "This weather sucks."

"Yeah, it does, though we should probably be grateful for it."

"Remind me of that when I'm losing fingers and toes to frostbite," I quip and he laughs again. "How far do we have to go?"

He points up ahead of us to a cluster of trees and I have to suppress a groan at just how far away they are. It's too windy and cold to really hold a conversation so we walk in silence. I stare at my feet, focusing on putting one in front of the other and ignoring how distant our destination seems. And, mercifully, the walk seems shorter for it.

Tobias takes my hand and leads me through a copse of barren trees, the ground thick with dead vegetation. In the Spring after the rains it must be alive with color, but right now it's all the same sickly brown. When we emerge from it my eyes go wide. There's a whole row of houses. No, not houses,  _mansions_. I know the word, but I've never seen any building that fits that description until now.

"People used to live here?" I gasp.

"Apparently."

"But they're so..."

"Big?" Tobias offers, an edge to his voice that tells me his thoughts are in line with my own.

"Yeah." Some of the homes are big enough to fit three or four of the house I grew up in. Unless every family had a dozen kids they would never need all of this. It's almost offensive in it's ostentatiousness.

We walk down the middle of what was once the street. It's eerie. This was obviously the rich part of town, the part of town where people could afford to build out of stone and brick instead of wood. And by virtue of their materials and the fact that the buildings were so far away from the center of the city they're almost perfect, at least from the outside. It feels like there should be people around, watching us from the windows, or just walking down the street like us.

Most of the homes have grand entrances facing the street, proudly proclaiming the owners wealth and status, but the one Tobias leads me towards doesn't. It's just as big as the others, but it looks more like a government building than a home. The windows are narrow and covered with heavy wrought irons grates, and the front door is hidden on the side of the house. The whole thing giving off an air of impenetrability.

We walk past the door. It looks inaccessible anyway since it too is protected by ironwork. "How did you find this place?" I ask as we pick our way around the property, stopping at a heavy iron plate set into the ground.

"When I found out Evelyn was alive I knew I couldn't join the Factionless, but I couldn't stay in Dauntless either. I started looking around for some place in the city that I could go," he says, heaving it up to reveal a staircase that leads down to a wooden door.

Other than this forgotten neighborhood there's nothing here, and certainly no hope of food. The Factionless were centered around the Abnegation sector because they could get handouts, but this far away there would be none of that, which is probably part of the reason the neighborhood is so well preserved. It was simply untenable to live here. "You would have starved to death," I say, following him down the stairs.

We flick our flashlights on and he closes the iron plate over us and leads me through the wooden door. The basement is huge and smells dank and musty. The air is still stale in the kitchen, but at least it doesn't smell like mold. "I would have been fine, for a while anyway" Tobias says, shining his flashlight on a stack of cans on the dust covered counter. "Not that it matters now."

The lower floors of the house are dark. The iron bars on the outside of the windows look decorative compared to the heavy wooden shutters chained across them on the inside. "You do that?" I ask, illuminating them with my flashlight.

"No. The house is just as I found it."

As I look around I can't help feeling unsettled by it all. There's a thick layer of dust over everything, but it looks like whoever lived here just walked out one day and never came back. There's still furniture, books, papers. It makes me wonder why they left. And then it makes me wonder if they left of their own free will or were dragged out to the streets to be executed like the Abnegation were.

It's not until we get to the second floor and I see the sun streaming through the windows that I feel the knot in my chest loosen. Even though there are bars on these windows too it doesn't feel as claustrophobic as the downstairs. We keep going until we reach the third floor. It's one long, open room, windows dotting the sides with seats built into the woodwork under them.

"Now we wait," Tobias says, seating himself on one.

"Hungry?"

"Thirsty, mostly."

I pull a bottle of water out of one of our packs and hand it to him, seating myself on the same bench at the opposite end. Through the bare branches of the trees I can just make out the fence. "What do you think is out there? I mean, I know you think Shauna's being ridiculous with her tales of toxic waste and vicious animals, but you never said what you think is out there."

"I'm more concerned with who is out there," he says nervously. "After Amanda Ritter's video, and what the Farlan's had to say... I don't think it's wild animals that we have to worry about."

"They would have come already," I say quietly. "If there was someone out there, they would have come during the war."  _And stopped it_ , I leave unsaid.

"Why?" He scoffs. "They probably wanted to see what happened when their little utopia gets thrown into chaos. We're just their lab rats. Once they figure out where they we went wrong with this version of their experiment we'll have outlived our usefulness."

His tone is hard and callous and I hate it. "Stop it," I snap. One of the first things Tobias told me when we got together was that he tends to think the worst of people, and that he's deeply distrustful. The war only intensified that for him, understandably, but sometimes it's just too much.

He exhales through his nose harshly, a look annoyance on his face before turning to look out the window again. "This isn't really going how I imagined," he mutters eventually.

"What isn't?"

"This," he says with a mirthless chuckle. "There's a lot of things I've been meaning to talk to you about and it seems like every time I try I mess it up, or something gets in the way. Amity was a disaster," he adds.

"Well, there's no one here besides you and me - at least I hope so -, so talk." Normally I would remind him that we live together, but since that first meeting at Tori's about going outside the fence we've had so little time to ourselves it's ridiculous; if I didn't know better I would think the entire faction is conspiring to keep us from doing anything other than working and sleeping.

His hand twitches towards his jacket pocket, but he seems to think better of it and pushes himself off the seat to pace in front of the window. He goes back and forth a few times, pushing his hands through his hair the way he does when he's frustrated before finally speaking. "I don't know what's out there, Tris. I don't think it's good though. We failed at what we were put here to do."

"But would they really just kill us all?"

He cuts me a look that clearly says that's exactly what he thinks.

"So what do we do if that's their plan?"

"I don't know. Fight back, obviously, but I doubt our odds are good. Even if we all banded together..." he trails off, looking back out the window.

I try to look at the problem logically, but I can only come up with one possible weakness for our unseen enemy. "If there really is war out there like that video showed, whoever is out there isn't going to be organized. If we are organized that will give us an advantage."

"Maybe," he says uncertainly.

"But...?"

"But whoever set this up, it was someone with money and power and influence. Some ragtag bunch of people couldn't fence off a city that stretched a hundred square miles. They're at least organized enough to keep us cut off from whatever is out there for decades."

"Then why haven't they shown up here? If they've been watching and waiting why didn't they come to kill us like you think they will once the war broke out and it became clear we were a problem and not a solution?" Even though I know I should be worried, it feels good to talk about this the same way it did to talk out the thoughts in my head after the attack on Candor. Whatever failings Tobias and I have, when we work together we're at our best.

"Right now, the weather," he says simply. "As far as anyone knows there are no roads beyond Amity. They would have to have vehicles that could handle the terrain. During the summer it's probably not too hard, but right now with the snow and constant storms, it's probably impassable. That doesn't explain why they didn't come in the Fall when they had the chance though."

"Or they didn't know what had happened until it was too late," I point out.

"Maybe. The Abnegation haven't been very forthcoming with information. If they're the ones communicating with these people..." Tobias' pacing slows as he mulls the idea over. "They either tried to hide it from them, or they couldn't get in touch with them. I'd guess the former," he scoffs. "Probably hoping we could still fulfill our purpose here, or trying to keep us all alive," he adds like an afterthought.

"When we were in Amity you said 'we're all being watched'," I say slowly. "Is that what you meant?"

"Kind of. I thought they might be monitoring us in some way at least, even if they weren't in contact with the Abnegation leaders."

"Why go outside the fence at all, Tobias? What's there to gain from it?"

"Depends on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

He sighs heavily, for a moment looking years older than eighteen. "Information. If nothing else we might find some kind of weakness. Best case scenario we find out something we can use to bargain with to keep us alive."

I don't have to ask what the worst case scenario is because worst case, we all die.

We both fall silent for a while, Tobias continuing his pacing and me chewing my lip, my mind filling with static at how many questions I have buzzing in it. "If they don't want to kill us what do you think will happen?" I eventually ask.

Tobias shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe they'll just wipe all our memories and start their experiment all over again."

The more I turn that idea over in my head the more terrifying it is. It's more terrifying than death. Losing all my memories, losing who I am... My throat starts to constrict at the idea that I would forget how beautiful my mother looked with her hair down, and how brave and kind she was; the idea that I would forget how comforting it was when my father ran his hand over my hair; even at the idea that I'd forget what it was like to laugh with Caleb when we were playing games as children.

When my thoughts veer towards what it would be like to forget Tobias I have to bite my cheek hard to keep the tears pooling in my eyes from spilling over onto my cheeks. Christina, Uriah... all of our friends we lost in the war. It would be like Will and Marlene never even existed. "I would rather die," I eek out, each word scraping painfully up my throat and out of my mouth.

"I know," Tobias says, and I'm surprised by the thickness of his voice.

I was wrong. Death isn't the worst case scenario. Being forced to forget who we are is.

"Right on time," Tobias mutters, and it's such a nonsequitur it snaps me away from my painful thoughts. I follow his eyes out the window to see a truck trundling past the fence. Even from this distance I can see that the people standing up in the back are armed.

"How frequently do they come by?"

"Three times a day; sunrise, noon, and sunset. At least that's as many times as they patrol together. The Factionless could be sending people by here more frequently, though I doubt it."

I follow the truck with my eyes until it passes out of view. When I turn back around Tobias is watching me, the look on his face unreadable. "What?"

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

I have to bite back a sarcastic reply. if it's anything like the last topic I'm not sure I'm up for it right now. "Okay," I say slowly, wondering what fresh horror awaits.

"I didn't want to dump all of this on you in one day, but with the way things have been" he starts and then drops his eyes, a little huff off irritation blowing past his lips. "I know we never really talked about what you overheard between Zeke and I, at least not the way I wanted to."

I brace for an argument. It's true we haven't really talked about it, everything that followed after to thoroughly eclipsing it.

"But I've thought about it a lot," he continues. "And he's right. There's no real 'right time' for this." He reaches in his pocket and pulls something small out. I can't see what it is with the way his hand is cradled around it, but a moment later he sets a small box on the empty space between us. The lid is up and there's a delicate ring glittering inside of it, the sunlight reflecting off the stone on top creating a rainbow of colors inside of it.

Before my brain can even form the word 'marriage' my body reacts. It feels like my heart stops, like everything stops, like the world just grinds to a halt. I stare at it until my vision blurs, and it feels like it takes me a small eternity to recognize what I'm feeling as complete, absolute terror. The kind of terror that freezes you in place, the makes you incapable of moving or screaming or anything. Everything just blanks in the face of it.

"...not really good at this." Tobias' voice sounds like it's a millions miles away, and whatever he was saying I must have missed the first part because my brain struggles to catch up, to make sense of his words. It's a lost cause and the best I can do is force myself to focus on what he's saying now. "I know things maybe aren't what you want them to be between us, and they aren't for me either, but I am trying."

he takes a deep breath, and I know I should try to meet his gaze, but all I can do is look at that ring. "But I made my choice when I decided to stay in Dauntless. And when I said I would be your family now, I meant it. Caleb's trial will be next week and I want you to know that whatever happens with that you're not alone. I will always love you, always stand by you. What happened in Jeanine's lab... that will  _never_ happen again. There aren't words for how much I regret doing that to you."

I take a gasping breath, finally realizing that I need the air because I haven't been breathing through everything he has said. When I finally look up at Tobias he's eyes are a curious mix of apprehensive and pleading. "I don't expect you to say 'yes' today. I just want you to know that marriage is where this is heading for me." He drops his gaze back to the box, gently picking it up and putting it back in his pocket. "However long it takes, I'll wait."

"It feels like you're always waiting for something from me," I mutter. My hand flies up to my mouth, covering it, and my eyes go wide, but the words are already out there.

"I guess so," Tobias chuckles, but there's no humor in it, only hurt.

I want to apologize, but there's nothing I can say that will take away the sting of that comment.

"C'mon, let's go eat something before the next patrol comes by," he says, extending a hand to me. I let him lead me back down to the second floor, but his hand feels foreign in mine. I sit by in a kind of stupor while he starts a fire in one of the ancient fireplaces, only belatedly realizing we're in a bedroom.

We eat in silence and the food tastes of nothing. I force it down to be polite, so it won't upset him to see me not eating and knowing it's because of what he said. Once it gets dark we take the sleeping bags Cara gave us and lay one flat on the ground, the other on top if it like a blanket. Tobias adds more wood to the fire burning in the grate, and I vaguely recognize the liquid he sprays over it as something Cara told us would make it burn smokelessly.

I almost shrug off Tobias' arm when he wraps it around me. Like his hand it feels foreign. Normally his weight and warmth feel like home. Not tonight though. I wait until he breathing deepens and slip out from under him. I wander between the rooms, thinking over the reason his proposal, such as it was, upset me as much as it did - does, whatever.

I end up in what looks like a childs play room. There's a tiny tricycle sitting in the middle of it, abandoned and ghostly in the moonlight. I lean against the window, chewing on my nails and watching the world below me shift from silver to black as clouds scuttle across the moon. In here, without the benefit of a fire, it's freezing cold and I shiver lightly, but ignore it.

"Are we okay?"

I startle at the sound of Tobias' voice and whip around to find him watching me from the doorway. "It's fine," I say dismissively, though it's not, and turn back around.

"I'm not stupid, Tris."

"Then why ask at all?"

"Because I don't know what else to do," he says, coming to stand next to me.

I sigh, trying to find the courage I need to say the things I need to say and force myself to meet his eyes as I say it. "I don't want you to want to marry me because you're... I don't know... trying to prove something to me. Or because you're scared, or because you feel guilty. I don't want that."

I start to look away, but he makes a small movement with his hand, keeping my eyes focused on him. "I want to marry you because I love you, Tris. No other reason. It's true I don't know how long our forever will be, but regardless it means nothing to me if I don't have you.  _That's_  why I want to marry you."

Heat floods my cheeks under the steadiness of his gaze, the certainty of his tone. " _Tobias_ ," is all I can get out because I'm not good at this, of expressing or accepting affection even though it's easier with Tobias than anyone else. The prospect of forever is terrifying in its magnitude, but I know, absolutely, that I don't want anyone other than him.

I stare down at our feet as his arms slip around me, as he noses at my cheek, his whispered "marry me", condensing on my skin and sending a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the temperature.

My hands fist against the back of his jacket, and I have to take a deep breath, but when I say "yes," my voice is certain too. 


	18. Chapter 18

Tobias and I haven't even known each other a year, have been together and lived together even less, but some things feel age old, immutable, like the scent of his skin. It's warm and masculine and unlike anything else I've ever smelled. It's not his soap or his shampoo, it's him, in origin and definition; home and comfort and desire.

I press closer to him, try to work myself into the skin of his neck which is softer than anyone would guess. Tobias' fingers thread into my hair, holding me to him, a contented sigh slipping past his lips. I will have this forever. If I think about that in terms of months and years and decades it's terrifying. But if all I think about is never having to give it up it's... I don't have a word for it. Elating, maybe. Whatever the opposite of terrifying is, definitely.

I don't know if we ever really got to sleep last night, but I feel more invigorated than I ever have after a night of being awake. Listening to Tobias tell me more about how he found this place, his plans for living here and being self-sufficient, how he thinks that's what our society should look like was more restful than sleeping probably would have been in a big, strange house. And with my eyes closed and his voice filling my ears I could just imagine that kind of life, see the beauty in it he sees despite the dangers.

Neither of us know if that's really possible anymore. If there are enemies without as well as within being so far from the safety that numbers provide would do nothing but make us easier to kill. But with him so close it's easy to steer away from that line of thought, or any line of thought that reminds me that my forever could be counted in hours and days.

"We should get up," Tobias murmurs into my hair, but makes no move to do so. If anything his arms hold me tighter against him. Immediately after he says it a gust of wind howls around the house, like mother nature wants us to stay right where we are as much as we do. "Or not," he chuckles softly.

This feels immutable too, his mood. I don't know if either of us could be described as 'morning people', but Tobias is playful and happy this time of day like he isn't at others. At night he's tired and quiet and sullen, but in the morning he's still the boy that told me he'd only come to my funeral if they served cake. His humor this morning is more soft than sarcastic, but it's there.

I prop myself up on his chest, pull myself forward to slant my lips against his. His kisses are just like his humor. I let him fit his hands to my hips, pull me on top of him. The rasping scuffle of our clothes against the nylon of our sleeping bags sounds far away in contrast to how close he feels. Everything feels far away when we're like this. Our past and future seem insubstantial with his hands splayed across my back and his lips molded to mine. I'm glad we waited to have sex, but even if we didn't, even we had slept together in Amity, I don't think it would have changed where we are now.

I kiss across his cheek, down his jaw to the space where his shoulder meets his neck that is my safe haven. "What are we going to tell people when we get back?" I'm so close that I feel my breath clinging to him.

He doesn't need me to explain what I mean. The one thing we didn't talk about was the ring he put on my finger as soon as we laid back down together. Maybe he didn't think of anything beyond getting me to say yes, but that would be very unlike him. More probably he has been waiting for me to bring it up.

His fingers trace up my spine idly, making me shiver. "Even if we don't tell anyone anything you have a terrible poker face, Tris," he teases. "Christina will take one look at you and it will all be over."

"Shut up," I say back with teasing indignation, shifting to move off of him, but his arms cinch tight around me, holding me in place.

"We'll tell them," he says hastily. "Our friends, and they'll be obnoxious about it for a while, and everyone in Dauntless will gossip about it, and Christina will torture you about wedding dresses, but once they finally get it out of their systems they'll just be happy for us. So we'll tell them." His voice should be annoyed given his words, but it's not. He's not deliriously happy - it's not who he is -, but even if it's not that kind of happiness his voice is full of contentment and hope because even though our future could be short and bleak we still have this bright spot, still have each other.

The alarm sounds on Tobias' watch and we both groan as I roll off of him. He kisses me quickly and disappears upstairs, off to make sure the patrol of the fence passes when it should. "You know it's not just going to be the dress," I say when he comes back. "With Christina, I mean. She'll want to make it a huge deal, all of it."

"You can always say no to her, Tris," Tobias points out, dropping down next to me to throw a fresh log into the fireplace and stoke the flames so we can cook breakfast. We hard-boil eggs in a small pot of water, and carry them up to the third floor still inside it so they stay warm while we eat crackers and dried fruit. It doesn't seem like much, but I can imagine the eggs would be a luxury for whoever we're sending outside the fence.

The weather gets worse the longer we sit at the window, flurries of snow blowing past, at first occasionally and then more consistently. There are even times we can't see the fence at all.

Despite that we linger as long as we can over breakfast, not because we're trying to be thorough in the job we're supposed to be doing here, but because this place is untouched by our war. We have no memories of fear or loss of pain, only happiness, and it's so rare for us I think we're both a little unwilling to let it go.

But eventually we do leave. We take a different route back to the train, avoiding the fence and passing out of the neighborhood on the street and into the crumbing fringes of the city that reach out to embrace it, trusting the snow to hide whatever evidence of our presence we are leaving in our wake. I'm still anxious though. The snow offers us some concealment, but it's a double-edged sword. If someone is watching us we can't see them either. When we jump on the train I feel some relief, but I don't let myself give into it fully until the last of the teams join us.

It's only then that Tobias relaxes too, and though I don't often think about it, it reminds me that though he never wanted to be a leader, he is a good one. He values the people in our faction, worries about them, wouldn't send them into anything he wouldn't put himself in the middle of too. He is selfless, and he is brave. I lean over and kiss him, and when he wraps his arm around my shoulders I can practically feel the relief that everyone is coming home safe radiating off of him.

Harrison is waiting for us when we arrive, but in the absence in of any information that requires immediate action he tells us all to go home and rest for a few hours before we meet at Tori's with everyone else involved in this project. We go upstairs and share a shower, barely bothering to pull on t-shirts and underwear before we fall into bed. I watch the snow fall past our window, my left hand over Tobias' heart while he toys with the ring on my finger.

I must fall asleep at some point because the next thing I know Tobias is shaking me awake, reminding me we have a meeting to get to. I pull on clothes blindly and stumble to the bathroom. He comes up behind me while I stand in front of the mirror, pulling a brush through my hair, and rests his hands on my shoulders.

"You ready?" I know what he's asking me. He's asking me if I'm ready for Christina and Zeke, ready for all the attention this is going to bring no matter how fleeting it is. He's asking me if I'm sure I want it, want him.

I look at our reflections. We still wear black but but there are parts of us that are, and will probably always be, Abnegation grey. It's who we are, why we understand each other even if we don't always agree. But it's not why we love each other, if it were there are plenty of Abnegation turned Dauntless around that could fit into those puzzle-piece parts of us now. I don't know if I can define love, or explain it, but I know what it feels like, know if anyone tried to take Tobias away from me I would burn the world down to get him back. I know he would do the same for me, maybe already has in a way.

"I'm ready." My voice is steady and certain because I am. I lace my fingers through his and lead us out of the bathroom, and out of our apartment.

We decide in the elevator to wait until the end of the meeting to say anything about our engagement. At first it seems to be going to plan. Everyone is so caught up greeting each other and helping themselves the food arranged on Tori's kitchen table that they don't notice the ring on my finger. And why would they? Tobias and I seem hyper-aware of it, but it's small and delicate, pretty without calling attention to itself, and though our friends will share in our happiness, it's not like it changes their lives like it does ours.

Of course all that goes right out the window the minute Christina slips through the door. She's nearly twenty minutes late, and looks uncharacteristically flushed and flustered, a secret smile she can't seem to shake turning up the corners of her lips. She shoots Uriah an apologetic look at interrupting his report on what's going on in the eastern part of the city, but she can't seem to shake that smile no matter how hard she tries.

She tip-toes across the room, ignoring the glare she's getting from Tori and makes a beeline for the table to snag a piece of pizza. She's just looking up to meet my gaze when her eyes snag on my arm where it's slung around Tobias' waist as we lean against the wall. For second her expression goes completely blank, but before I hide my hand she says, "what the hell is that?" so loudly, and in such a shocked tone, everyone in the room turns their attention to her, then to me.

The only thing I can think is,  _not now, not now, not now_. But before either Tobias or I can do anything to stop her she's pushing him out of her way and grabbing my hand in a vice-like grip.

"You got engaged?" She's practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes wide.

"Um... yeah," I say, my voice reflecting how awkward I feel as everyone's gaze pins me in place. A second later she knocks the wind out of me with the force of her hug, a barrage of questions flying past her lips. I don't catch even half of them because all I can focus on is that I can't breathe.

I look up helplessly at Tobias, but he's doing his best not to laugh at me, and Christina's  _enthusiastic_  response. I still manage to smirk at him when Zeke grabs him from behind in a headlock, twisting him in half as he congratulates him and demands to know why he was left out of the loop. Apparently Tobias didn't tell anyone his plans.

I poke Christina in the side, my voice strained as I eek out, "can't breathe, Christina." It still takes her a minute to let go, but when she does Uriah's there to pull me into a hug, offering his congratulations too. Thankfully he doesn't strangle me in the process.

After that it's just a blur of faces and voices. I get hugs and Tobias is on the receiving end of so many slaps on the back I'm sure he'll have a bruise. It takes a while for things to settle down again, though I can tell Christina's attention never really focuses on the meeting; she's just killing time until she can start in on the questions I ignored before.

The meeting actually is important though. We make a tentative timeline for sending our groups over the fence, long enough that the temperatures won't be freezing at night, which also gives us time to train them. And we decide the training will be much like the old initiation in that we will have a larger group of people than we need, and will select the best suited from among them. Over the last few weeks we have decided on a list of candidates that is twenty-five people long - double what we will need - it is voluntary, and there is the possibility that none of those people will be interested in volunteering. If that is the case we'll appeal to the faction at large, but for now it's best to keep it under wraps since we don't want it to be general knowledge.

Cara wraps everything up with a series of questions about the equipment she sent with us, studiously taking notes about our suggestions for improvements or other gadgets that might be useful.

As much to avoid Christina and her invasive questioning than anything else I help clean up as people start to drift out the door. I know it's not going to be enough so as soon as we're strictly among friends I ask her why she was so late.

"I lost track of time," she says briskly, brushing me off. "So how long do we have to shop for a dress?" She asks, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

"Um... I don't know." I look at Tobias, silently asking him questions because we haven't discussed the practicalities of this.

He shrugs. "We can do it right now if you want."

"When did you get so freakin' cute?" Christina croons at him.

"What? I wouldn't ask her if I wasn't ready," he defends himself. "I don't see the point in asking a girl to marry you if you don't mean it."

"You should have seen him before they got together," Zeke joins in. "He pined for her. Used to watch her across the cafeteria with big puppy dog eyes. It was fucking adorable."

"Would you shut up," Tobias snaps, more embarrassed than angry.

Zeke holds his hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm just sayin'," he smirks before turning to Christina again, intent on extending this embarrassment. "You know how many nights I spent listening to him grill Shauna about what it meant when Tris looked at him in some way? I thought it would never end.  _Oh my God_ ," he guffaws, his eyes turning towards Shauna. "Do you remember the day she grabbed his hand in the training room?"

"That's it," Tobias says, pushing himself to his feet and tackling Zeke. And because this is Dauntless all any of us do is move the coffee table out of the way as we laugh at them.

* * *

True to my prediction Christina is trying to make a big deal out of everything related to my impending wedding. Some things - like when it will happen - are decided on, but that isn't enough for her, and to spare myself another meal spent talking about details I find insignificant and she finds essential I slip away to have lunch with Tobias.

The Control Room is dark and cool and calm like always. Tobias is hunched over his keyboard tapping away furiously like always, too. He leans back in his chair, tipping his head against my stomach as I lean over it to kiss him, a small smile breaking the look of intense concentration on his face for a moment before he turns back to his work.

With one final keystroke he turns towards me as I pull a chair over and set our lunch on his desk. "What was it today? More dresses?"

I shake my head. "Flowers."

"That reminds me, Tori was here earlier, she suggested we could have the ceremony in the Dauntless garden." Normally weddings occur at the Chasm just like funerals, but Tobias and I want it to be just us and our friends - surrogate family, really - and not the entire faction.

"Dauntless has a garden?" I scoff.

"Yeah. Top of the Pire." He opens his desk drawer and pulls out a small key. "Accessible to leader's only." I pick up the key as I eat, twisting it between my fingers and trying to imagine Max and Eric plotting the murder of an entire faction while surrounded by sweet smelling flowers, but it's too incongruous for my mind to wrap around. "Are you okay?"

I look up to find Tobias watching me, a tiny furrow pucking his brow. "I'm fine, why?"

He sighs and sets his lunch down, watching me narrowly. "Caleb's trial is in a few days."

All I can say to that is, "oh," but suddenly my sandwich is tasteless and dry.

"I thought someone might have told you before I could."

"No. No one has said anything to me about it," I say, setting my food down.

"Do you want to go?"

"I didn't really think that was an option," I stutter out, surprised by his offer. So far the only place I've been allowed to go after my 'death' has been Amity. The only other time we've talked about me going out in public - to the war memorial - has ended in a fight.

"There's a balcony in the courtroom. Not a lot of people sit there, but not so few it would draw attention. If we get there early, we can sneak in and out." I turn the idea over, wondering if I really want to witness what will most likely be my brother's last few hours alive. There are still questions I want answered, ones that he will probably have to face under truth serum, but the idea of watching it makes my stomach knot sickeningly. "You don't have to decide today," Tobias says carefully, "but either way I'm going."

My eyes snap up to his. As far as I know he hasn't gone to a single trial since they began, but I guess it's different for him with Caleb. And though I wish I was ignorant of the reason, I'm not. If Marcus had been put on trial for all the things he did to Tobias I would have be there, sitting in the front row where he couldn't ignore me or my triumph at his finally receiving his comeuppance for all the awful things he'd done.

Tobias finishes his launch in silence, eyes flicking to mine every so often as he eats. When he wipes the last of the crumbs off his hands he asks if I want to go up to see the garden. I guess it's his way of cheering me up, or maybe just distracting me, so I shrug my shoulders and push myself to my feet. He key fits into a tiny slot under the panel of numbered buttons in the elevator, and as we go up and up I realize I've never been this high in the Pire.

"Have you been here before?" My voice sounds hoarse and croaky, and I have to cough out the thickness to get the question out.

"Just once. Right after my initiation Max brought me up here, trying to change my mind about joining the leadership."

"With a garden?" I can't quite keep the incredulousness out my tone and Tobias smirks at me over his shoulder. It's not so much the garden as the idea that Tobias would be swayed by any special privileges he might get for accepting Max's offer.

"It's not just that, but yeah," he chuckles. "I guess it was more a test than anything, see if there actually was a way to bribe me. His apartment is the floor right under it, he showed me that too."

"I thought all the fancy leadership apartments were on the same floor as Uriah's? Didn't they take Eric's old one?"

"They are, but the apartment for the most senior leader is special," he shrugs. "A whole floor to itself, and all kinds of unique features like it's own lap pool and a dumbwaiter for the kitchen to send food up so they wouldn't have to eat with the rest of us. You know, they're the only ones who didn't have to leave the faction when they got too old to be useful. Must have sucked going from the lap of luxury to some hole in the Pit though."

A chime sounds and the elevator doors slide back. My eyes immediately fall on an intricate black gate that bars our path. A plaque with a skull and crossbones proclaiming 'These Plants Can Kill' in bold, unmistakable lettering adorns it.

I cock my eyebrow at Tobias questioningly, and push the gate open to find myself in a poison garden, full of hemlock and nightshade, belladonna and aquilegia, opium poppies and wormwood plants. Deceptively beautiful, decidedly deadly. A Dauntless garden. Even the laburnum trees that have been trained into an arch and trail tendrils of pretty yellow flowers are toxic enough to cause convulsions and comas.

Still, it is beautiful, enchanting even, and despite the icy sky outside in here it feels like summer. The air is warm and fragrant, and if not for the dome of glass you would never know you're inside. There are paths that lead through it, moss growing up in a soft carpet between each carefully laid stone, and the burble of falling water from unobtrusive fountains that more resemble natural springs than anything else creates a soothing soundtrack.

Tobias and I walk through it hand in hand. The height doesn't seem to bother him, but the sides of the building are artfully hidden behind tall plants, so it's hard to judge just how far off the ground you truly are. I'm not sure if I like the symbolism of being married here, but I prefer it to the Pit or the dining hall or our apartment, which are our only other options.

"You better hold onto the key," Tobias says as we make our way back to the elevator. "I'm sure Christina will want to see it too."

I elbow him in the side, but all it does is make him laugh. We spend the rest of the afternoon with Tori, Harrison, and Christina, interviewing the people we've selected to go outside the fence. Some aren't interested, but most are at least curious enough to consider it. It's consuming work that carries us to dinner time, and allows me to push thoughts of Caleb from my mind.

And they stay out of it until Susan approaches us in the cafeteria, looking sheepish and shy as she walks up to the table we're all ensconced at, Zeke and Uriah and the rest our friends filling up the empty seats. Like everyone else she congratulates Tobias and I, and even asks to see the ring. She is truly happy for us, but there's still a sadness that lingers behind her eyes, and once she's sure the rest of my table has turned their attention back to dinner she asks about Caleb.

Immediately I feel bad for being so happy. It must seem perverse and cruel to her to be flaunting it in her face. I get to marry the boy I love, while all she gets to do is watch the one she loves die. When I tell her I won't be going to his trial she says goodbye and drifts out, a look of distraction on her face.

Tobias reaches out, looping an arm around my waist to pull me flush with him, and it makes me feel a little better, but after that Caleb haunts me, hovering in the back of my mind during my waking hours, and starring in my dreams in my sleeping ones. The night before the trial Tobias asks me again if I would like to go, but I shake my head no, and crawl under the covers without another word. In the morning, when he wakes up early I pretend to be asleep, and ignore the kiss his presses to my shoulder before leaving.

I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling for a long long time, absently running my fingers through my hair. There are things I need to do today, even things I don't necessarily need to do that could provide something of a distraction, but I know my head will be at the Hub, and maybe my heart too. Automatically, I rise from the bed, pull on clothes and walk out the door. Tobias would be furious with me he knew what I was doing, and as I jump on the train, as more people in every color of clothing join me on it while we wind through the city, I try to ignore the voice that sounds like his ringing in my ears, scolding me for doing something so dangerous for someone so undeserving.

My heart hammers in my chest painfully as I carefully pick my way across the ice-caked street surrounding the Hub. I don't know exactly where to go, but I let the crowd surrounding me carry me into the lobby, to the elevator and to the door marked 'courtroom'. It's only now that I hesitate, unsure of how to get to the balcony. It doesn't take me long to locate the second door that leads to it further down the hall.

As Tobias said there are a few people sitting here, but with my hood pulled up and seated in the shadows they don't pay me any special attention. Caleb is led in just as I'm sitting down. His hands are shackled together and there's a guard holding onto each of his arms, but he looks so downtrodden I can't imagine he would try to run or fight back. They seat him in a chair in the middle of the court. There are four tables in a semicircle in front of him, each one containing the representatives from Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and the Factionless. They are separated from the audience by a waist-high rail.

Though I try not to my eyes immediately search out Tobias, and he's not hard to find. He's in the front row, sitting behind the Dauntless jurors. I can't hear what he is saying, but I see him lean forward and talk to one of them before Niles injects Caleb with a dose of truth serum and calls for silence. A wave of deja vu sweeps over me as he asks Caleb to state his full name, parents names, faction of birth, and faction he transferred to.

Unlike Tobias and I, Caleb does not - cannot - fight the serum. For a split second I pity him. It must be awful to listen to your own voice incriminate you with no way to stem the flow of words. And then Niles asks him what he meant when he said he was always Erudite, even when he was supposed to be Abnegation.

"A year before I transferred, I was pulled aside at school. One of my teachers had taken note of how Erudite I was." A small smile turns up his lips, but his voice is flat monotone, unresisting. "He asked if that was where I planned to transfer to. We became friendly."

"And you were friends? Is that all there was to it?" Niles voice is rich and sonorous. The complete opposite of Caleb's.

"No. I knew he was looking for information, things he could use against Abengation, like Marcus Eaton abusing his son. He never said so, but I knew."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Nothing. My parents didn't abuse me or my sister or each other, and they didn't talk about their jobs at home. At least not where I could overhear them."

Niles rifles through the papers in front of him, seemingly accepting of the answers to his questions before moving on to another set of them. "I want you to tell me about your initiation into Erudite," he eventually says, sitting back comfortably in his chair as Caleb's voice once again echoes through the room.

He tells Niles about his first days there, meeting the other initiates and choosing a topic for the research that he would be judged on before being admitted to the faction. He even speaks of me coming to visit him, and his worry that it would get him thrown out before he was even able to join them. Still, there must be nothing remarkable about his initiation because Niles lets him talk uninterrupted until he gets to the night of the simulation attack.

"Why were you in the Abengation sector that night?"

I scoot to the edge of my seat, leaning forward so that I don't miss a word of his response, and feeling sick at what it might be. "I found out about the attack. I tried to warn them," he says simply. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, but before I can do more than that Caleb's eyes reel around the room, a look of hysteria overtaking his features despite the heavy cloud of truth serum weighing him down. "I didn't know," he says emphatically. "I didn't know what was at stake, how important it was that the Erudite get their data. If I had known I would never have interfered."

As the realization of what he means sinks in I have to swallow back the bile in my throat. If he knew the reason for the attack he wouldn't have tried to save anyone. Not our parents. Not our friends. Not our neighbors. Not me. No one. He truly is Erudite.

"When did you find out 'what was at stake'," Niles asks him evenly.

"Not until later," he says, briefly recounting our journey from the Abnegation sector to Dauntless, and then Amity and having to flee from there as well. After Tobias and I left for Candor Caleb was scooped up by traitor Dauntless not far from the Factionless safe house. "They took me to Jeanine. She told me about how the Abnegation planned to use the Divergent's to destroy our society."

"And you believed her?"

"Not at first. Not until she showed me her research and the video of Amanda Ritter."

 _How very Erudite of you_ , I can't help thinking. Even the voice in my head is disgusted with him. Ignorant of my silent, scathing commentary he presses on.

"After that she told me I was in a unique position. I thought she was going to ask me to spy on them, but she didn't."

"What did she ask you to do?"

"To find my sister Beatrice and spy on her and the other Dauntless who fled after the simulation attack. To find more Divergent's among them if I could and keep her informed on what their plans were; if they were going to attack Erudite."

"And you did?"

"Yes. Until they returned to the Pire." There is no remorse in Caleb's voice and though I want to believe that is the fault of the truth serum, I know it's not. It subdues your emotions, it doesn't erase them, even if you can't decide what to say under its influence.

He tells the court about how he helped use the knowledge he gained spying on us to select the people Jeanine put under simulation to deliver her message to him, how he knew Marlene and I were friends from his time at Candor. Suddenly the taste of blood fills my mouth and I realize I've been chewing my nail so intently I've drawn blood. Marlene died because of me, because she had the bad luck to befriend me. How am I ever going to look Uriah in the face again knowing that?

He keeps going though, his narrative covering how he returned to Erudite helped solve the problem of Divergent's being immune to simulation serums on the two most Divergent people in the city, Tobias and myself. Listening to him speak about it is like reliving it all over again. The pain, the hopelessness, but mostly the betrayal and the anger at it. And I hate him for it. I  _hate_  Caleb and how emotionlessly he tells the story from his point of view.

More than anything I want to hurt him, make him feel the pain that I felt then, and still feel every time I think about our parents. For once I'm glad they're dead so they don't know what their son, who they loved, truly is. At least they were spared this. I will have to live with it though. For the rest of my life the same way I will have to live with their weight of their loss. I try to block the rest out, let it his words be as meaningless as the buzzing of insects, but I can't. Every one of them is indelibly imprinted on my brain.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Niles finally asks, clearly this is his last question.

"My sister, Beatrice," he says quietly. "I helped her escape."

The shock I feel is reflected in the muttering that swells up in the courtroom below me and for the first time I realize how full it is. Tobias said that Caleb's trial would be one of the most important of the Erudite, but even knowing his crimes it doesn't really hit me until now, until seeing all these people interested enough to come and watch, morbid as it is.

"What do you mean, 'helped her escape'?"

"When I found out Jeanine was going to kill her I helped one of her guards orchestrate her escape. He had already come up with switching the paralytic serum for the death serum, but he needed my help to rig the heart monitor. I made sure it seemed like Beatrice died."

So Caleb was the Erudite who helped Peter. He knows who Caleb is, how we're related. He could have told Tobias and I that he was the one who rigged it. If not for the serum and knowing Caleb isn't Divergent I might think he's lying. As it is all I can think is that he swore Peter to secrecy, either to save his own skin in case the plan backfired (and if that's the case he doesn't know Peter), or because he never wanted me to know, because he was washing his hands of me.

"Why did you try to help her escape if you thought she was so dangerous?"

"I couldn't live with her death on my conscious. I knew she would die soon either way - and she did -, but I didn't want it on my conscious."

 _Selfish_ , the voice in my head snaps at him. Even his one act of redemption is selfish. He didn't do it for me, he did it for himself. The same way he's only admitting to it now when there's the chance it can keep him alive. If anything it makes me hate him more. What a good liar he was to make me believe he loved any of us.

Niles turns to the jurors assembled around them, reminding them that they have to decide if Caleb is guilty of treason and a whole host of other charges, and if he is if he deserves imprisonment or death for it.

As the jurors talk amongst themselves I can see the serum wearing off. Caleb rubs at his face, blinks his eyes as if he can shed the last of it that way. His posture becomes rigid, tense, and even from a distance I can see the nervous perspiration bleeding through his shirt. It's not so easy to die. I'm not surprised to see Susan walk down the center aisle. He refuses to meet her eye as she sits down in the spot his eyes would naturally fall to if he were to look up. Though he doesn't deserve it, he at least gets a kind face to look at as his fate is decided.

For the first time since Caleb started talking I look at Tobias. He is leaning forward, his arms propped up on the railing between him and the jurors, deep in conversation with them. They're probably trying to decide if his attempt to save me is worthy of some leniency. I get my answer in the small shake of Tobias' head.

Niles calls for order once again. In turn, a single representative of each faction and the Factionless stand and say that Caleb is guilty, that they think he deserves to die. Niles' voice fills the courtroom as he tells him that he will be summarily shot by the end of the day. Caleb doesn't fight as the guards lift him to his feet and lead him out, but the sounds he makes are inhuman.

They're the sounds of grief, of heartbreak, and the fact that he's mourning himself doesn't matter. I can't even look at him because I know only too well what he's feeling. I felt it every time I had to watch a friend or family member die and couldn't save them. I felt it when I walked down that hallway in Erudite knowing, not thinking,  _knowing_  I was going to die. That I didn't was a fluke.

When I look up the most of the crowd has dispersed. There are a few groups of people milling about chit-chatting, but I know where the jurors went. From listening to Harrison I know part of their duty is witnessing the execution. It's supposed to keep them more fair-minded if they have to see the viscera of their decision.

I slip out of the balcony, choosing to take the stairs now that I know Tobias will be in the crowd of people using the elevators. To avoid him completely I make my way through the maze of utility corridors and out an unobtrusive exit at the back of the building. I'm just sneaking towards a side road when I see them. A row of prisoners with their hands shackled together being led by a large contingent of guards.

Caleb is among them. And so is Tobias, following along behind the jurors. Technically anyone can witness the executions, the same as they can the trials, but I don't know how common it is. As far as I can see Tobias is the only non-juror, and it's that more than anything that makes me follow them, curiosity that his loathing of Caleb runs so deep that he would make sure he's dead.

I stick to the alleys, catching glimpses of the group between buildings. There are four other prisoners though Caleb's was the only trial today. They must only execute people a few times a week. I don't know if it's better or worse to have that time to ruminate on your death.

They walk to an empty lot ten minutes from the Hub. In one corner is a tractor, obviously used to dig the deep trench that scars the frozen ground. Before it are six wooden posts. They perplex me until I see each prisoner being tied to one. It's an ignominious end. There are no mourners, no pomp and ceremony to honor these lives. Maybe in that way they are deserving of their end. There will be no memorial to these people, nothing to commemorate them, only their victims because even if Caleb never killed anyone with his own hands doesn't mean he isn't a murderer.

There is little fanfare. A list of each prisons crimes are read, and then they are given their last rights. Caleb lifts his face heavenward, and closes his eyes. In the second before the gunshots ring out I swear the world is holding it's breath. There is no sound, no movement, no nothing. It's not peaceful, it's anticipatory, full of dread. And then the air is ripped apart by the sound of gunfire.

My body jerks at the same time Caleb's does, like I'm feeling the impact of the bullet entering his heart the way he is. By the time he slumps to the ground a second later his body is lifeless. I realize my mouth is open in a soundless scream and snap it shut. My vision tinges black around the edges and I force myself to pull in a deep breath before I black out.

I know I need to move if I want to avoid discovery, but it feels like it takes me an eternity to unstick my feet and stumble down the alley away from that pit and those bullet-riddled bodies and my brother and my fiance. Before I come to my senses and realize I'm heading away from the train tracks I'm in a different part of the city, far from where I need to be. I hunch down and lean back against the crumbling side of building, trying to get my bearings, trying to surface from the shock I feel.

After a while I force myself to my feet if for no other reason than the sun will set soon and I don't want to wander around in the dark, trying to find my way home. A humorless laugh bubbles up my throat at the thought that maybe Caleb is experiencing the same thing wherever he is, if there's anything after this. And then I start crying.

The tears come so thick and fast for a while that I stumble my way through the city blindly. I think about Caleb, every moment we shared before that last year because it feels safer, because whatever he felt the Erudite didn't have their claws in him yet. But it still feels like I'm mourning the brother I wish I had and maybe let myself believe I had, but not the one I actually had.

Walking helps, clears my head enough that I can make a list of every death I can chalk up to Caleb, directly or indirectly. I replay every piece of his narrative from today, and square it with all snippets of our time together during the war, wrapping it up neatly and putting it someplace inside myself that I don't have to look at. I mourn Marlene again and that brings a fresh wave of tears, but eventually I pack that away too. I will have to tell Uriah about it at some point, but not right now, not tonight.

As I walk the sun goes down, but I can see the Pire in the distance like a beacon and I follow it. The closer I get the more my thoughts turn to Tobias, to the shake of his head that might have spelled Caleb's death, to the ring weighing down my finger. He's been telling me for months that Caleb will die for his crimes, but that is a far cry from seeing it in action.

Could Tobias have done something to save him? The other jurors voted for his death, maybe the Dauntless would have as well regardless of Tobias' input, maybe they were only asking his opinion because of everyone in that room he was the most directly affected by Caleb's actions. And really, didn't I do the same when I told Marcus he had to share what he knew with us before we would protect him? I didn't kill him, but I didn't save him either, and Tobias doesn't hold it against me, quite the opposite.

The thoughts spin around my head until they make me dizzy. And as soon as I walk through the door of the Pire my feet carry me in the way they always do when I'm upset. They find Tobias. He's in the Control Room despite the hour, his sanctuary when the world around him is too chaotic. I lock the door behind me and when he hears it click he stands up and faces me, wiping his palms on his jeans. All I can think is that, that is what I do when I'm nervous.

And like I did in Amity I kiss him because I know his lips will distract me from everything else. "Tris," he mumbles, his tone wavering between pleading and apologizing. And I don't want to think about the reason behind it, so I kiss him harder. And maybe he doesn't either because after a moment he kisses me back.

I don't know which of us is angling for the desk, maybe I'm pulling him with me, and he's walking me back, but it's my hand that sweeps the contents onto the floor when the back of my thighs bump into the edge of it. His hand slips under the hem of my shirt, pulling it up as he pulls me closer and his lips on my neck and I fist his shirt in my hands as a moan escapes my mouth. This is what I wanted in Amity; to lose myself in him, if only for a little while. And I know now like then he won't be the one who stops this.

It feels frantic and desperate, but it feels affirming and vital too. It feels like life, and if those are the wrong reasons I don't care because despite everything we're still here, still alive. There's a pulse between us, one that only grows stronger as we work each other out of our clothes. Our hands work between us, pushing and pulling and tugging at fabric while our lips remain pressed together, each of us unwilling to give up that connection.

My jeans and underwear are still tangled around one ankle when Tobias' arm locks around my waist, lifting me up a few inches so that I'm teetering on the edge of his desk. I don't know what I expect, maybe Tobias going slow and asking me lots of questions and making sure I'm a hundred percent comfortable and sure of everything we're doing. He doesn't. And it's better for it.

His hand gripping my thigh feels intoxicating, feels electric. It makes me want more and he gives it to me in the way he bows over me, tips me backwards so that the computer monitor digging into my shoulder seems insignificant as he kisses me, a mutual groan of relief bleeding out between us as he slips inside of me.

All the other times we've been together like this my mind has been scattered, in a million different places of wondering what he thinks as he looks at me, or the pressing practicalities of where to put my legs and what to do with my hands, but there's none of that this time. This time all I feel is the exquisite pleasure of my body parting around him, of him filling me, and I swear I can feel every contour of him inside me and against me.

Every movement of his hips drags a new sound out of me, and even though my mind feels like it's in a dozen different places they feel like the best places in the world. They're where I can feel every ridge of fingerprint against the flesh of my thigh where he's holding it against his hip; in space his hair tickles my cheek; where I can feel him panting against me; where I can feel the warm, damp flesh of his shoulder under my lips. And I can taste him, on my tongue and in the air, salty with sweat, but still him.

He breathes out half formed words of love and devotion, humid against the shell of my ear. I don't even know if he's aware of it, and I care even less because even though we've done this before, it's never felt like this. It's been sex, it's been fun, and it's felt good, but it's never felt like  _this_. This feels like love, feels like what we've been trying desperately to grab onto every other time and never quite been able to reach. But it's ours for the taking now. There's no struggle.

We both steal glances at the space between my legs where he's disappearing into me, but if it goes a second too long there's always lips calling us back to each other, demanding the attention only kisses can give. When I lean back and brace a hand against the wall his teeth rake down the column of my throat and when I call out to him he moves faster, deeper, the position allowing him to put the perfect amount of pressure on my clit as he follows me back, eager to keep as much contact as possible.

I can feel my body tightening around him, everything inside of me racing towards the end when all I want is for it to last forever. But when I finally do tip over the edge it feels like the world shatters behind my eyes, a thousand phosphene lights warping and bursting and the only real thing in the world is the Tobias' sweat slick skin moving against my own. Pleasure burns through me in crisp, hot waves, flushing my skin.

My body is still swept up them when I feel Tobias tense, feel him go rigid in my arms before he slumps against me. As we catch our breath the inevitable chill follows the fire and I remember all the things I'm trying to forget. I remember Caleb's cold lifeless body, and how he'll never feel this, never feel anything.

I disentangle myself from Tobias as gently as I can, each of us redressing quietly. The silence feels oppressive. I feel the tears clawing their way up my throat and put my back to Tobias. "Caleb's dead," he says as I mean over to pick up my shoes.

I stand up slowly, but refuse to face him. I take a deep breath to keep my voice steady. "I know," I reply and walk out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes. They finally had great sex. And then I had to go and complicate it by making it grief sex. That might be a little controversial, but I stand by my decision. I don't think Tobias would have stopped her in Amity, and she was grieving even more than.
> 
> Moving on...
> 
> The Dauntless garden is actually based on Alnwick Poison Garden. I'm putting a link up on my Tumblr (BleuWrites dot Tumblr, etc.). I think it's really fascinating and I wanted Tris and Tobias to get married someplace pretty, but it's Dauntless so I had to come up with something that fits both of those things.
> 
> And as for Caleb... I'm saying it right now. I've totally got money on his being the Erudite who helped Peter. If that's not explained in Allegiant I'm going to be so disappointed (also, tangentially Peter's words to Tris being the same as Tobias'. Happenstance?).


	19. Chapter 19

_Good luck today. Love you. - T_

I finger the note Tobias left on the nightstand. As things go, it's a new low. Since the trial and our tryst in the Control Room things have been... well, not awful, but certainly not good. We barely speak, and our silences are heavy and awkward. He hasn't asked how I found out about Caleb and if he knows I was at the Hub - let alone at the execution - he hasn't even alluded to it.

And aside from holding me while I sleep he's barely touched me. We've been reduced to chaste kisses and awkward hand holding, something that even when we first got together we barely experienced. But him scurrying out the door before I even wake up... it just reinforces the growing distance between us.

I leave the note and get dressed. The training rooms are still empty when I get there and I use the time setting up for the new trainees. When they start trickling through the door I'm busy working on my knife throwing skills. Our last group was so unskilled they thought everything Christina and I did was amazing. It's going to take more to impress this lot, our Chosen One's who are going to venture outside the fence.

Christina follows the last of the stragglers in and we quickly go over the training schedule. This morning though, we're starting with the basics, getting a baseline for where all these people are so we know how to get them where they need to be. Knife throwing is the first skill up, and it's a good thing. Dauntless don't often have to throw knives outside initiation and it shows. Within minutes the sounds of twenty knives whistling through the air fill the room, spinning through space in flashes of silver before impacting the wooden targets with a dull  _thunk_ , or falling to the floor with a sharp  _clang_.

I hang back, critically observing each trainees attempts. It's better than listening to the static in my head, of worrying about whether or not I used Tobias, hurt him, ruined things between us. It's better than losing myself in memories of him and what we did. More than once I've been toiling at some mundane task only to find myself submerged in the memory of the way he moved inside of me in the control room, the things that he said, the way I could taste him on the air between us. When I come back to reality there's a crushing guilt right along with the tingling ache between my legs because if his avoidance is anything to go by, it's not something he thinks of fondly.

And it's a guilt that's only compounded by grief because of Caleb. Because I should be mourning him, not fantasizing about sex. I've wondered more than once if it's just my minds way of dealing with the pain because while things are complicated with Tobias, Caleb's death and the way I feel about it is so much more complex and confusing. Every night he dies again in my dreams and I wake up screaming and crying. Tobias is there to hold me, but he feels a million miles away, and I end up crying because of that too.

My eyes land on a man a few people over from me. He's tall, broad shouldered, and the snake tattooed on his arm looks like it's writhing every time he flexes his muscles. He's also falling forward sloppily every time he releases the knife in his hand and completely missing the target.

I wind my way through the bodies between us and tap on his shoulder, holding my hand out for the knife he's gripping. He passes it to me without comment. I quietly explain his error and demonstrate the correct way, slowing down each of my movements so he can note the difference between what I'm doing and what he did before putting it all in motion and throwing the knife.

When I look back up his expression is stony. "I know how to throw a damn knife," he mutters to himself as I turn to walk away.

Maybe he was expecting the noise around us to conceal his voice, but I doubt it. It's not like I'm not used to passive-aggressive mutterings in these rooms - Dauntless pride runs deep -, so all I do is stare up him, keeping my expression carefully neutral. If I was Tobias I would get right in his face, just like he did with Peter on the first day we were initiates. If I was Eric I'd make him stand in front of the target as I threw knives at him. But I am not them, and this exercise just became about something entirely different from throwing knives. "Okay," I say simply, and walk away.

I don't have to look back to know that he's gaping at me, trying to figure out what is going on, if this little flutter of fear he's feeling that he just damaged his chances is real or imagined. I don't really care if he can hit the bullseye every time. What I care about is his ability to accept help, improve weak skills, and being smart enough to defer to others if they are better at something than him. The groups we're sending outside the fence have to work together as a team, and I have a feeling that's something that will be a problem for him.

With a half dozen words he's dug himself into a hole so deep he's going to have to work twice as hard as anyone in the room if he wants to dig himself out of it. Of course if he doesn't, one more comment like that and he won't so much damage his chances as end them.

I spend the rest of the morning working through the crowd until Christina and I are satisfied with their progress, and musing to myself about all the ways my aberrant pupil could screw up even more. It's better than thinking about the mess I've made in the other parts of my life.

* * *

The sounds of Uriah and Zeke bickering snaps me out of my stupor and back to the reality of the noisy dining hall.

"I still think we should all go zip-lining at the Hancock building," Uriah says as he sits down next to me. "Back me up on this Tris," he implores as he digs into his dinner.

"Sounds like fun," I say, but I can't quite match his enthusiasm for the idea. The last time we went to the Hancock building Marlene and Lynn were still alive, Shauna could still walk.

 _Marlene_. I still haven't said anything about that to Uriah. I don't even know how to begin that conversation, but more than once lately they've both starred in my nightmares; Uriah screaming at me, Marlene's body - they're almost as bad as my nightmares about Caleb.

"See, I told you," Uriah says, smiling triumphantly at his brother on the other side of the table.

"And I told you Four won't be into it. He's never gone with us before. I think he's afraid of heights," Zeke says, looking at me like I'll confirm or deny the assumption.

Before I can do either, Uriah cuts me off. "That's stupid. He followed Tris up a Ferris wheel like a squirrel. He's not afraid of heights," he says flatly.

"Yeah, well, that was different," Zeke mumbles, more to his bowl of soup than either of us.

"Um... why are we going zip-lining?" I ask, feeling like I'm missing a big part of this conversation.

"For your wedding," Uriah says, his expression clearly tacking a 'duh' onto the end of the statement. "Zeke and I are throwing you guys an engagement party, so we're trying to figure out something special instead of just everybody getting trashed."

All I can do is gape at him. Because of me Marlene is dead and he's planning on throwing me a party. Guilt and grief twist my stomach like a knife, and I push my food away, afraid that if I take another bite it will just come right back up.

"There's going to be a lot of that too," Zeke interjects, oblivious to my turmoil. His eyes crinkle and lips turn up in a mischievous smile. "What Dauntless party would be complete without everyone getting shit faced?"

"You guys still planning my stag party?" Tobias asks as he sits down next to me. All his presence does is make me want to sink into the floor, disappear.

"Hardly a 'stag party' when you insist that your fiance and all the women we're friends with are there," Zeke points out, but judging by the pleased look on his face he doesn't mind a bit.

"We were thinking of zip-lining," Uriah chimes in, looking hopefully at Tobias.

Tobias shrugs his shoulders dismissively. I doubt anyone else can see the way his eyes tighten at the prospect, though maybe Zeke can because he's known him for so long and already suspects the reason he's never done it before.

"You don't think it's a good idea?" Uriah looks crestfallen.

"You guys go zip-lining every year. I thought you wanted to do something special, that's all."

"Yeah, but  _you've_  never done it, and Tris has only done it once." Uriah bumps into my shoulder playfully. "And you loved it, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I say weakly, my misery building every second I sit here. "It was great."

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out," Zeke interrupts, but gently. He guides the conversation to other topics, safer topics, with ease; he could never be Candor, I think.

I tick away the minutes, looking for an opportunity to excuse myself without drawing undue attention. I can feel Tobias' eyes on me though, each time they flick to where I'm sitting next to him it's like they're picking at him, asking silent questions.

Zeke and Uriah troop off to their apartment before I can make my escape. "What's wrong?" Tobias asks as soon as we're alone, his voice quiet so no one at the surrounding tables can hear us.

I cast around wildly for something to say, something that won't give away that I was there that day at the Hub because the way things are right now, I don't even want to think of the fight that would cause.

"You don't, um... I mean, if you just want to hang out with Zeke and your guy friends it's okay. I don't have to be there." I know the second the words are out of my mouth that Tobias can hear the lie in them.

He sets his knife and fork down carefully and lays his hands flat against the table before turning to me, his expression composed and mask-like. "I want you there," he says firmly. "But I also want to know what's really going on with you, so stop lying."

My cheeks flush angrily and I sit up ramrod straight, defensive. "Fine," I snap. "You want to know what's wrong? Fine. What's wrong is that Uriah is planning a party for us when he should hate me, when I'm the reason Marlene is dead. And don't try to tell me I'm being stupid about this because I'm not," I add. "If it wasn't a big deal you would have told him yourself."

If he didn't know before that I was at the Hub before he knows now, because it's unlikely anyone would have told me that detail. And I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes, putting two and two together. I push myself up from the table leaving the remains of my dinner behind.

"Where are you going?" He snaps.

"To talk to Uriah," I hiss at him. I'm gone before he can say anything else.

By the time I make it to the elevator in the Pire a cold sweat has broken out across my body and my hands are shaking so bad I have to squeeze them into fists and hide them in my coat pocket. My stomach rolls and heaves, but I force myself to take deep breaths through my nose so I don't throw up.

Zeke answers the door of their apartment, looking perplexed. "I need to talk to Uriah." My voice is weak and shaky, but Zeke doesn't say anything, just motions towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

Uriah's stretched out in his bed, one arm tucked behind his head and book propped up on his chest when I walk in. Other than Caleb and Tobias' rooms I've never been in a boys room before and my eyes reel around looking for a place to sit that isn't the bed, which seems too intimate. Unfortunately other than a dresser and nightstands there's no other furniture in the room.

"Everything okay?" Uriah asks, an eyebrow cocked questioningly and his tone curious.

"I, um... needed to talk to you about something," I say uncertainly. I nudge the door almost closed and perch on the foot of the bed, realizing too late that my nerves are making my whole body tremble.

"Hey, it's okay," Uriah says soothingly, sitting up and putting his arm around my shoulder. It's so comforting and brotherly that it breaks what little control I've maintained all the way up here. "Did you and Four have a fight or something?"

"No," I choke out around a sob. He's being so nice and I can't stand it; all it makes me do is hate myself even more. "Marlene was on the roof that night because of me," I blurt out. "My brother said at his trial that he told Jeanine we were friends, that's why she picked Marlene to deliver her message and... and jump off the roof."

Uriah's hand stills where it had been rubbing up and down my arm, and I feel his body go rigid against mine as he takes in what I'm saying.

"I'm sorry, Uri," I whisper, eyes fixed on my hands where they're balled in my lap. "I didn't... I'm sorry." It sounds pathetic, and it is I suppose, but I don't know what else to say.

He's quiet for a very long time, long enough that my tears turn silent, but still keep streaming down my face. "You should go," he finally says, his voice strained, like he's at the edge of his endurance.

"I'm sorry," I say again, but if he hears me he doesn't respond. Zeke and Shauna are talking quietly in the living room but I ignore them and make a beeline for the door, just wanting to get away, to find some hole somewhere where no one can find me; someplace I can hide from the accusations and loathing I know I'll see in their eyes once they know the truth of what happened that night.

The only place I can think of is the Dauntless garden, so I jam the tiny key into panel of the elevator. I'm almost certain I have the only key, but even if I don't I'm much more likely to be alone here than anyplace else, even the bottom of the Chasm, maybe especially so since Tobias would naturally look for me there.

There's no moon tonight, but the space is lit by small, unobtrusive lights along the paths and between the bushes. I lay down on an artificial knob of grass, the gentle swell comfortable under my back and surrounded by delicate white flowers that are closed for the night. If I didn't have such a strong will to live - even now, even through all this pain - a handful of them would probably be all I need to kill myself.

I stare at the glass dome above me, and with only it and night sky between us I can see a whole galaxy of stars scattered across the heavens. It's beautiful and peaceful and they're totally indifferent to the world that they shine on. I learned in school that because their light has to travel so far some of the stars are already dead, blinked out of existence hundreds of years ago even though we can still see them. It seems oddly poetic; even here the dead still shine on the living.

I stay until my mind is empty, until the weight of exhaustion makes my brain feel sluggish and I can't trace the constellations above me or count stars anymore. I slump against the side of the elevator as it carries me down, and drag myself to our apartment.

It's late and Tobias is already in bed, shirtless, on his side with the blue quilt pooled at his waist. The light coming from the bathroom is weak, but it illuminates the tattoos that trace down his spine. His shirt is at the foot of the bed, waiting for me to pull it on. Watching him sleep... the longing I feel for him is palpable. I just want to be close to him, to mold myself against him and forget about everything.

"Did you tell him?" Tobias asks, his voice clearly awake, though he hasn't rolled over to face me.

I creep between the sheets, carefully fitting myself against him and slip an arm around his waist. "Yes." Even with the warmth of his skin heating my own he still feels far away. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. Maybe he just doesn't know what to say. Maybe he doesn't know how to bridge this chasm that has opened up between us. Maybe he hopes I do.

I don't say anything either because I don't. And it's terrifying because the silence makes me uncertain about us, our future.

* * *

Christina flips another half dozen black dresses over the door of the changing room. Where she keeps finding them is a mystery I've yet to solve. "How many more?" I whine at her.

"You tell me," she scoffs. "You're the one who can't find The Dress."

"And you're the one who insists that I need another dress in the first place."

"You can't get married in the dress I made you buy during initiation! You need something special!" Her voice is indignant and offended, though nothing like as horrified as it was when I told her I didn't think I really needed a 'special' wedding dress.

"Do not," I mutter to myself, stripping down to my underwear once again and pulling on another dress. "I hate it," I announce, stepping out of the dressing room and batting disdainfully at the puffy, full skirt.

Christina nods curtly, dismissing me for another costume change. This is the third time we've gone dress hunting and it looks to be as productive as the last two times. Really at this point I'm just hoping we find nothing and Christina gives up and gives in and leaves me alone. I also know the likelihood of that happening is on par with Peter joining Abnegation because he wants to embrace a life of selflessness.

"Don't worry, we'll find it," she says encouraging once I've tried on the last one. "Now, help me pick something out for my date with Michael tonight."

"How's that going?" I ask as I drift through the racks of clothes, following in her wake. Being so preoccupied with everything else in my life has kept me not only from 'being a girl', but also being a friend.

"Good. I mean I like him."

"I know you do," I say with a smirk. "Was he the reason you were late to Tori's?" Her cheeks tint red, and my jaw drops. "Are you actually blushing? I never thought I'd see the day you-"

She cuts me off with a backhanded slap to my arm. "Shut up," she mutters before regaining her usual composure. "I don't know if he likes me as much as I like him though. I mean, we've kissed a lot, made out a few times, but he hasn't tried to... you know...  _take it further_. I'm kinda hoping that with the right dress and a little alcohol, I can."

"Maybe he's just waiting for the right time. Tobias did," I offer.

"Tobias is different. And besides you both have all that weird Abnegation baggage."

"My point, exactly. Maybe he wants it to mean more than what you were doing with Uriah," I snap.

"Oh calm down," she says as she stops and picks through a rack of clothes. "I'm not saying he can't be, but he's driving me nuts. I've been having so many rendezvous with my showerhead it's a miracle my fingers are perpetually pruney."

"What are you talking about?"

She turns and looks at me in slack jawed wonder, a complete counterpoint to my confusion. "You've seriously never used your showerhead to get off?"

"N-no," I stutter out, embarrassed that I can infuse so much shock in two letters. "How would you even  _do_  that?" I ask before I can stop myself.

She grabs me by the shoulders, forcing me to look at her. " _Ohmygod_ , you have to try it, it's amazing!" She says enthusiastically. "Seriously, Tris, next time you're in the shower just-"

"I'll take your word for it," I cut her off, carefully extracting myself from her grip and hoping it's the end of the discussion of makeshift masturbatory aids.

Thankfully, it is, but mostly because her eyes land on The Perfect Dress and a wicked smile twists up her lips. It's surprisingly modest - completely covering her arms and chest - until you get to the hemline, which is so short I'd consider it a shirt. "I have this theory that if you show the right amount of skin boy's brains just kinda get stuck on 'naked girl' and they stop thinking. Guess we'll see if it works."

"If it does, I don't need to know about it," I quip.

She smirks at me over her shoulder as she twists around in front of the full length mirror. "Yeah, this is perfect," she mutters to herself, her eyes unfocused by the thoughts in her head.

Ten minutes later she's tugging me through the door of the apartment she shares with Cara and Elia. I've never asked how the arrangement works, if Cara knew about Uriah, or how she feels about Michael. I don't really know why I'm here, why Christina insisted that she needs my help to get ready for tonight. I'm not girly enough to help with her hair and makeup; for all intents and purposes I'm completely useless when it comes to this.

I sink to the floor, propping myself up against the side of her bed so I can see into the bathroom where she's preening.

"So are you going to tell me what going on between you and Four or do I have to beat it out of you?"

So that's why I'm here. I should be annoyed, I guess, but I'm not. Christina's not looking to gossip, she's asking because I'm her friend and she cares. Still, the Abnegation inside of me chimes  _selfish!_  But the more I think about the more I realize how eager I am because I can't talk to my usual confidant - Tobias - about it.

I start hesitantly. I tell her about the trial, which inevitably leads to Marlene and Uriah, but she waves me off the subject, telling me she's already talked to him about it. I'm surprised because she hasn't mentioned it. I almost demand to know what exactly he had to say since he hasn't talked to me at all - about anything -, but I wouldn't want Christina telling him about what we talk about, and even though it requires an effort I subdue my curiosity.

I tell her everything else, about everything Caleb said, how he was the one who conspired with Peter to arrange my escape from Erudite. I tell her how Tobias' little head shake and how Caleb's one redeeming act wasn't enough to save him from a firing squad. I tell her about the execution. But I do try to gloss over what happened in the Control Room. Right or wrong that belongs to Tobias and I. At least until she asks if the tension between us is because I suspect Tobias ordered Caleb's death.

"It's not... I don't," I stutter out, my tongue working faster than my brain. "He, I mean,  _we_... um... we had sex in the Control Room... that night after Caleb died," I finish, a blush burning my cheeks.

"Kinky," she deadpans, carefully applying a pallette of powders to different parts of her face.

"It's not a joke, Christina! We've barely spoken since. I used him, and he's... I don't know. He thinks it was a mistake."

"Did he say that?" She asks, finally turning and giving me her full attention.

"What part of 'we've barely spoken since' aren't you grasping?" I snark.

"I'm just saying. You two suck when it comes to talking, so how do you know he thinks it's a mistake?" It's a rhetorical question, and for a few minutes she goes back to doing her makeup. "Would it bother you, if he had Caleb killed?" Her voice is quiet and contemplative, but there's a tension evident in the way her muscles move over her bones.

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess it would depend on the reason why." After Will and Marlene and Marcus I feel like a hypocrite for even saying that, but it's the truth.

Christina doesn't say anything, just sort of nods her head to acknowledge she heard my answer. "So, what do you think?" She asks once she's done, waving towards her face with a flourish. Despite the plethora of products arrayed on her bathroom counter the effects aren't noticeable for the most part. I suppose that's how you can tell she's so good at it though.

"Pretty," I say approvingly, but it doesn't feel like it's enough of a compliment considering all the work she did. "Michael doesn't stand a chance," I add and a brilliant smile lights up her face. "Am I free to go now?" I tease. She sticks her tongue out at me and disappears back into the bathroom to change.

"Go, get out of here. Make nice with your fiance," she shouts through the closed door.

"Good luck tonight," I call out before leaving.

It's a short ride down to my apartment. Tobias isn't home, but I don't expect him to be; there's a meeting tonight to discuss what to do for all the kids in the city - if we should reopen the schools or if it's still too dangerous.

I flop face down on the bed. I haven't been sleeping much lately and when I do it hasn't been restful. And I am tired, but with my face buried in our sheets the scent of Tobias assaults me. I kick out of my shoes and pants and try to ignore thoughts of everything we've done in this bed. None of it was as good as what we did on his desk in the Control Room.

I try to push those memories away, try to will my pulse into not racing my breaths not to be so ragged. But I can't will away the warm, wet ache between my thighs. I know from experience that until I tend to that there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep. I still flip the blankets over me and try though.

After twenty minutes of tossing and turning and gritting my teeth I give into it, tilting my hips up to wriggle out of my underwear before flipping over on my stomach again. Fleetingly I think of Christina's insistence that I experiment with the shower head, but the mechanics of it are baffling. I can only imagine using the handheld nozzle to direct the spray to where my fingers would normally be, but it just seems like too much work, and besides this has always worked fine for me.

I sigh into Tobias' pillow, using one arm to scrunch it up under my face, and reaching down with my other to touch myself. I don't try to go slow or savor it. It feels wrong, thinking about us in the Control Room when Tobias obviously thinks it was a mistake, but I can't help it. Everything about our coupling there was intense and left me craving more, clearly. Images of us flash behind the velvet dark of my closed eyes like a movie and that in combination with the tight, quick circles my fingers are tracing is enough to bring me to a quick orgasm.

When the after-effects fade I bang my forehead against the pillow in frustration. It's not enough. It blunted the edge of my need, but didn't satiate me. A quick release wasn't what I needed, and without volition my fingers start moving again, at first frustrated, but then I relax into it, exploring and caressing and seeking out those places that make me shudder and moan.

"Once wasn't enough?" Tobias' voice breaks into my thoughts, and I twist around, horrified to find him standing in the door watching me. I don't know how long he's been standing there, but it's been long enough apparently. His eyes are burning, a fathomless blue of a deep lake and brimming with emotion. The only one I can read as he walks towards the bed is want, raw and undisguised. He leans down and kisses me slowly. "Don't stop," he implores, nosing at my cheek. I'm still so shocked that all I can is give in as he presses a hand to my shoulder and urges back to the bed. He follows it with his lips, planting a wet kiss on the nape of my neck.

I've never done this in front of anyone before, can hardly believe it's something he wants to see. But if the way he's kissing me and slipping his hand over the smooth curve of my backside and the tented front of his pants are any indication he really wants to see it.

His gentle ministrations urge me to action again. I'm hardly comfortable with this, but it's not as awkward as I thought it would be, and if I'm honest it's easier doing this than talking about all the unsaid things that have piled up between us lately. My hips tilt up into his hand, encouraging him to touch me. I smother a moan in the pillow when he slips his fingers inside of me.

"What were you thinking about?" He mumbles against my skin, the humidity of his breath mixing with the light sheen of sweat breaking across my body and causing my flesh to erupt in goose bumps.

"You," I breath out.

"What about me?" His fingers are as gentle as his voice, moving inside of me in a slow caress.

"What do you... think about?" I huff out, quickly losing the ability to form complete thoughts, let alone sentences, but I can hardly tell him what I was thinking about. It's selfish, but his fingers feel too good, and if I tell him that I fantasize about about sleeping with him in the control room he might take them away and that is the last thing I want.

"You. I used to think about this.  _A lot_."

"Really?"

"I always wanted to see you touching yourself, but I thought you'd say no if I asked to watch," he chuckles. "Guess I was wrong." He uses his lips and tongue to trace across the span of my shoulders.

"Tell me," I weakly command and I feel him smile against me. He does. He tells me how he used to think about this before we even got together, late at night when he was alone in his apartment in the Pit.

There's a part of me that hardly believes it, but the bigger part of me revels in the knowledge that he wanted me, he  _lusted_  for me, and that in combination with they way he's touching me is enough to break me. My hips buck up into his hand, drawing his fingers deeper as I try to muffle the high, strangled noise that works it's way up my throat in his pillow.

When I come back down again my skin is flushed and feverish, but the way Tobias is worrying my neck makes me shiver. I should be done, satisfied, but I want more. And so, apparently, does he. "I want to be inside of you," he says. There's the barest hint of a question there, but I want that too.

I peek up at him with one eye, meeting his nervous gaze. I don't know where this Tobias came from, don't know what changed or shifted in him, what was broken open by the strain between us, but I like this part of it at least. "Yeah," I say weakly, already spent, but needing more of him.

I shutter my eyes closed again, hearing rather than seeing him pull off his shirt and pants, feeling him shift around on the bed until he's behind me and the firm grip of his hands on my hips urging me up onto my knees. I'm swollen and sensitive and my body greets him eagerly when he pushes inside.

We both let out a low, guttural groan at the contact. It feels like every nerve is a livewire, twitching and jumping at the feel of my body giving way around him. He pulls out in a slow drag and then pushes back in, exquisite and luxurious. It leaves my toes curling towards the soles of my feet and my fingers clawing into the sheets. My body pitches forward and draws back in sync with his movements.

He collapses over me, framing my arms with his and weaving his fingers into the spaces between mine. "Tell me you love me," he says, nibbling at my neck, never ceasing the slow rocking of his body into mine. His voice is needy, almost demanding, like he's trying to convince himself that it's true.

"I love you," I reassure him, overwhelmed by watching where he's working between my legs and his request. "Always." I can feel his heart thumping against my back, and I tilt my face towards his, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

"I love you too. So much," he vows. My body clutches at him, at his words. The night Caleb died I needed the reaffirmation that this provided, but Tobias seems to be the one who needs it now. He moves quicker, harder. It's almost possessive, but without the edge of aggression I would associate with it.

Either way it leaves my body racing towards release, despite the fact I should be satisfied already. But in this position everything is different. It's the complete opposite of me being on top, the parts of me I'm least comfortable with are hidden, but that's only part of it. The other part is that from this angle Tobias feels amazing. Every time he pushes forward I push back, and he's so deep inside of me it's almost painful, but like eating something sweet with something tart it only enhances things.

And though I thought I never would, I like how dominating the position is; I _like_  the mild loss of control I feel because I feel safe with Tobias no matter what. The only thing I don't like is that I can't really reciprocate. In this position I can only  _take_ , but I get the feeling that Tobias must love that aspect of it.

"I've missed you," he pants, one of his arms curling loosely around my waist so his hand can stroke at me. I hardly need it, my body is already teetering on the edge of another release even without the extra stimulation he's offering.

"I missed you too," I say, stilling his hand with one of mine and guiding it so that he can grip my hipbone instead. He's already so close with his chest flush against my back, and face nestled into my neck, and his limbs caging me in, but there's something about the firm expanse of his forearm cinched across my waist that feels incendiary.

I don't need to tell him that I'm close. We've done this enough that he can read it in the way my breath comes in short, staccato bursts, if not the way that my body tightens around his. He moves quicker, erratic because I can feel that he's close too in the way that he twitches inside of me. My mind fights against my body because it doesn't want this to end, but the release my body is craving is inevitable, and it comes swift and intense and pulls him over the edge with me.

Without Tobias holding me up I would surely collapse. It's just as intense as the night in the Control Room, but my orgasm isn't the sum total of what I've been craving. It's this; this closeness to Tobias, this letting go. The freedom and intensity and trust of making love instead of having sex. I could never have this with someone else.

But, like in the Control Room, tears follow my release. By the time Tobias flops down beside me they're sliding down my cheeks, heightened by the cold chill and emptiness his body separating from mine leaves.

I stretch out beside him, hiding my face in my hands. Tobias covers us both with the blanket and pulls me close, letting me muffle my sobs against his chest. He clutches me protectively against him, murmuring little things into my hair I'm too insensible to take note of. By the time I cry myself out my throat is raw and my eyes are painful.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess," I gasp, trying to get control of myself.

"Did I... do something wrong?" He asks me tentatively, face etched in worry.

"N-no, I'm just... I don't even know why I'm crying," I say honestly. "It's just everything. Caleb and Uriah and you," I babble, trying to work out my thoughts because it seems ridiculous that I was felt so good and then so awful, so quickly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Tris."

I let out a watery, mirthless laugh. "I feel like it though. I'm sorry... about the Control Room," I say meekly. I should have apologized for this a week and a half ago when it happened. "I shouldn't have done that to you, shouldn't have used you like that."

"It's not like I was complaining," he deadpans, trying to tease a smile out of me. After a minute his features collapse into worry again. "Do you think it was a mistake?"

"You do," I point out. "You've barely talked to me since then." By the time I get to the end of the sentence my throat is constricting for another round of tears.

Before I can hide between me hands again Tobias grabs my wrist, stopping me. "I don't. I mean, it wasn't ideal, but I don't think it's a mistake."

"You don't?"

"No, I don't. It changes things, but that doesn't mean is has to be bad."

I watch him closely looking for any hint of a lie, but I find none. And before I can stop myself the questions I've kept bottled up start spilling out. "Why did you go to Caleb's execution?"

Tobias holds my gaze for a moment before looking out the window. He looks almost... ashamed. "Sometimes I struggle with kindness," he says quietly. "It was vindictive of me to go, but I wanted him to know - I wanted him to see me and  _know_  - that between the two of us he was the monster. It's not a part of me I'm proud of, but I don't regret it."

I look down to where my fingers are fidgeting against his skin and work up the resolve for my next question, not really knowing if I want to know the answer, but needing to hear it too. "At the trial when the jurors were deciding his fate they asked you something and you shook your head." I stop short of asking if he instructed them to sentence Caleb to death, but the question is there, implicit.

Tobias is quiet for a long time. Long enough that I look back up at him imploringly. "They wanted to know if I thought it was enough, him trying to save you." That much I guessed already. "I told them it wasn't my job to decide," he says. His gaze is steady, never wavering from my own. "When they pushed I refused to give them an answer."

There's a part of me that wants to ask him the same question, but I decide it's better to leave some things unsaid.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is again split between Tobias and Tris; his section is sort of a prequel to what comes later. 
> 
> And I'm going to say right off the bat that I write angst a lot better than I write fluff, but I tried to do my best. Hopefully you enjoy it :)
> 
> ...

**Tobias**

Tris is still in a sleepy heap on the bed when I get out of the shower, sheets and blankets rumpled around her hips and hair sprawling messily across the pillows. And I can't help feeling a little proud at the sight of her because I wore her out. It's a stupid thought full of embarrassing male bravado, the kind of thing you're supposed brag about to your buddies over beers, but knowing that doesn't make it go away.

Unlike when I got in the shower though her eyes are open, watching me languidly as I lean over her. She reaches out to catch me, one hand slipping around my neck to finger the raven tattooed on the back. "Morning," I mumble against her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

"You're up early."

"I have a meeting," I sigh, pulling away from her to get dressed.

"You sound thrilled," she deadpans as I sit at the foot of the bed next to a pile of clean clothes.

"Oh, yeah, _thrilled_. Every time I meet with the Abnegation leaders..." I trail off, huffing in exasperation. "Just the whole time I know they're silently judging me about Marcus, about siding with Evelyn during the war, _everything_. I fucking hate it." I was born for Abnegation and the fact that they don't think so stings, though I would never admit that to anyone, even Tris; I'll barely admit it to myself.

I feel Tris kick the blankets away and the shifting of the bed as she sits up to press her lips against the nape of my neck, right over her tattoo. I'm not even sure if she realizes how fond she is of that particular patch of skin. Still, it has the desired effect, easing the tension I feel building and replacing it with something sweeter; a persistent aching need for her that I'm so familiar with it feels like second nature. It makes me feel loved, wanted; something I never felt until her.

Her lips are always a little chapped and the rough edges of it snag across my skin as she kisses her way across my shoulder and over, sinuously moving so that she in front of me so she can continue her path across my sternum and down my abdomen. By the time her fingers tug at the knot in the towel wrapped around my hips I'm hard. "I'll be late," I say, but it's a half-hearted protest.

"I'll be quick," she mumbles, never removing her lips from my skin.

At the first touch of her tongue I lose any pretense of arguing with her. I've never been with another girl like this, so I have nothing to compare it to, but the wet, welcoming warmth of her mouth feels like heaven, and whatever she lacks in skill she makes up for in enthusiasm.

And besides, we've done this enough that she knows exactly what I want. It's a practiced pattern by this point, alternating the pull of her mouth with the stroke of her hand to give her the freedom to lick up my chest to flick the point of her tongue or the gentle rasp of her teeth across my nipple - the fact that my anatomy was similarly sensitive to hers had been a pleasant surprise - and then up to nibble on my neck and ear before going back down to bob between my legs.

But the sight of her crouched in front of me, my finger tangled in her hair to keep it out of her face, and my shirt hanging off her scarecrow shoulders is enough to make my body bow over her, enough to leave me panting and desperate. Combine that with her tongue dancing over me, searching and circling and mapping out parts of me by feel alone and her looking up at me with those dirty ice eyes eaten black with lust and I know this will be over far sooner than I want it to be.

I want to touch her, to tear away the scraps of cloth covering her and pull her up until she's straddling me, bringing me off with other parts of her that are just as warm and welcoming as her mouth. What I really want though, more than anything, is for her to touch herself while she does this. She's blushingly told me, voice stilted with embarrassment, how turned on pleasing me like this makes her. Just the thought of her small, strong hands disappearing into the fabric of her panties to stroke at herself with tender fingers makes me throb and twitch in her mouth.

Despite walking in on her pleasing herself I still haven't worked up the nerve to ask her for that yet. But it's fine. Someday I'll ask her, maybe, but for now I have this and this is more than enough. We've done this enough that she can read my body, so in the space of the heartbeat it takes for my orgasm to manifest in the hot spurt of sticky liquid she pulls away to finish me with her hand.

It's almost ridiculous how chaste her kiss is as she wipes her hand off on the towel spread out under me on the bed. I grab at her weakly as she gets to her feet, but she dodges me with a coy smile and disappears behind the locked bathroom door, leaving me weak-kneed and woozy and unable to repay the favor even if I didn't have a meeting to get to.

xxxx

"Expecting a little 'afternoon delight'?" Zeke asks, a smirk firmly plastered across his face, making me regret ever telling him - however vaguely - about Tris and I having sex in here. Especially since his sage advice when I was freaking out that I'd really fucked thing up between us was 'fuck if I know'.

All I can do is stare at him stupidly for a moment before asking where Tris is. She's made a habit lately of eating lunch with me in the Control Room, and truthfully I was expecting her when I heard the door open.

"She's with Christina," he says, handing me a plate with a sandwich and salad. "She asked me to bring you lunch since, and I quote, 'he'll forget all about eating if he's coding'. You should know there was an whole eyeroll that went along with that statement, but I'm not sure if it was aimed at you or Christina."

Wordlessly, I accept the plate of food and toggle over to the security cameras in the dining hall, trying to catch a glimpse of her at least.

"God, that's creepy," Zeke mutters, settling in the chair next to mine and starting in on his own lunch.

"Everyone would do this is they could," I say flatly. It's an argument we've had more than once, his discomfort with me 'stalking' Tris on the security cameras. It's not like I am eavesdropping on her conversations intruding upon private moments; the cameras are only in public spaces where anyone could see her, the fact I am doing it through a lens didn't make much of a difference.

"She's not even there. Christina was dragging her up to her apartment when I ran into her."

I frown at the screen, tapping at the keyboard with irritation, feeling robbed after spending the morning thinking about her. More than once I found myself immersed in thoughts of her as the Abnegation leaders droned on, working out the details of turning one of the buildings surrounding the Pire into their new home.

"If you're that desperate why don't you go down to the training rooms later like Tori and Harrison do?"

"Maybe," I say indifferently. In all honesty I've been avoiding the place. I don't want people saying that Tris earned her position as a training by sleeping with me, the same way I didn't want people saying the same thing about her ranking during initiation. Still, with a free afternoon and thoughts of Tris plaguing me I find myself slipping discreetly into the training room. Harrison and David - our guard from Amity - are at the top of the room, demonstrating the proper way to use a knife in hand-to-hand combat since it's their area of expertise.

Tris and Christina stand off to the side, joining in with their pupils to learn a new skill. I can't help the surge of pride I feel seeing her; her skills as much as her demeanor set an example of the new Dauntless we're all working so hard to create. And the students in the room respect that and her. There's no whispering or fidgeting, they're all as politely attentive as the example she's setting.

Soon enough they're pairing up, striking out at each other with special knives that have a flat edge instead of a sharpened blade; it wouldn't do anyone any favors to have them gutting each other. Naturally Christina and Tris work together, but I can't watch. Even if I was under a simulation at the time I haven't been able to watch Tris like this since I assaulted her in the Control Room. Looking at her like a target, figuring out her weaknesses and exploiting them, makes me sick, reminds me too much of someone she says I'm not and could never be.

Harrison and David work their way through the crowd, patiently schooling the people who need it, and encouraging those who are doing well. After a while David makes his way to where I'm sitting on a rarely used table pushed against the back wall. His handshake is firm as he greets me.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he says, his voice deep and gravelly. He's an imposing guy, what with his height and obvious strength to say nothing of the tattoos and icy demeanor. But in private he's quick to laugh, and is fiercely loyal with a strong sense of right and wrong. I don't know if he would have gone so far as to join the factionless as I was planning on doing before the war, but he certainly wasn't happy with the way Dauntless was then.

"Thought it was about time I showed my face," I say with a shrug.

"I don't think Four is needed here. Your girl's pretty intimidating all on her own," he says approvingly.

I try to keep the grin off my face so I don't look like a complete idiot at the term 'your girl'. I'm only partially successful. "I wouldn't want to cross her," I say a little smugly. After a few minutes chatting he goes back to helping people, and I go back to watching everyone but Tris. Some of the people I know, but others are just a name and picture in a file and I take my time matching each living, breathing person up with the stack of inanimate paper I know them from.

By the time Harrison calls it a day a few of them stand out, not so much for their skill as their attitude, and not always because it's good, but I supposed it's easier to make a bad impression than a good one. As people file out the door past me they all nod or say a quiet 'hello'. It's the kind of treatment Marcus used to receive and it used to bother me, though I've kind of accepted that it comes with the territory of being a leader and made some peace with it.

Once the room is empty of trainees and she's close enough I weave my fingers into Tris' keeping her by my side as I go over the plans for next week with Harrison one last time. It's customary for our friends to give us wedding presents, but we don't really need anything. Our apartment came furnished and we've bought a few things for it besides, so we've told everyone not to bother and asked Tori and Harrison for the one thing that can't be bought: privacy. Two days to just be alone together with nothing to do and nowhere to go. They readily agreed, but I still remind Harrison that he will be aiding Christina with the trainees on Monday and Tuesday.

"Aren't you guys coming to dinner?" Christina asks, confused when I start leading Tris in the opposite direction from the dining hall.

"I'd rather stay in tonight," I say quietly, but significantly, my gaze never moving from Tris' face. "Do you mind?" Of course if she says she'd rather eat with everyone else I'd go along with it, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

"No, it's fine," she says to me before turning back to Christina. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have fun," Christina says pointedly and flounces off, probably in search of her latest Erudite boyfriend.

The compound is crawling with people, everyone getting off work and going to dinner or home so that we don't have a private moment until we're through the door of our apartment. As soon as the lock is thrown I press Tris against the wall, trapping her in with my arms and claiming her lips with mine.

She makes a surprised noise in the back of her throat, but melts against me all the same. I lead her backwards through the apartment, almost falling over the coffee table in pursuit of the couch. By the time the backs of my knees slam into it she's got my shirt halfway off. "Guess you missed me too," I chuckle, the sound muffled by the layer of cotton she's pulling over my head.

"Don't get cocky," she scolds, but I can't stop laughing at her phrasing because, really. She starts to stand up, annoyed, but I cuff my hands around her thighs, holding her in place.

"Sorry," I say, pressing kisses along her exposed collarbone and up her neck. Obligingly, she lifts her arms so I can pull her shirt off and drop it to the floor with mine. "Let me make it up to you."

She groans softly in acceptance, knotting her hands in my hair not so much to guide me as ground herself. I can taste the savory saltiness of the little bit of sweat she worked up sparring with Christina, the bitter leftover perfume of her soap and lotion, and something that's uniquely her; it's elusive on her skin, but I know it will be heady between her legs.

For all the time I spent today fantasizing about exactly what I'd do to Tris when I got her alone again, all the ways I'd draw it out to revel in and worship her body, there's an almost frantic need that takes over. All too soon I find myself sliding down to sit on floor as she impatiently kicks off her jeans and spreads her legs over me, knees propped on the edge of the couch. I hold her steady with one hand hooked around each of her strong, shapely thighs.

She's still got her bra on, and I know that scrap of lace will stay there as long as possible. It makes me sad that she thinks she has anything to be ashamed of, but no matter how many times I tell her she's beautiful - not that I _think_ she is, but that she _is_ \- it doesn't change her hiding certain parts of herself from me. Neither does lavishing them with the attention I would always give them in the rare moments they're uncovered. I try not to worry about it, hoping that if I don't make an issue of it, it will become less so for her, but I don't really know if that's the right thing to do or not.

I do, at least, know what to do with the parts of her closest to me at the moment though. I crane my neck up, reaching out with my tongue to give a tentative little lick up the seam of her sex. It makes the muscles of her thighs flutter involuntarily under my hands and it's all the encouragement I need. There's something about pleasing her with my mouth that is undeniably satisfying for me. Maybe because it's all about her and harkens back to our Abnegation upbringing, the mirror image of the almost fetishization I have of watching her masturbate because it's such a selfish thing.

But with the evidence of her desire spreading across my tongue intellectualizing it doesn't really matter much. What does matter is the little moans and half-pants she's bleeding out as I lick at the sensitive bare flesh in front of me. When I reach up and slip a finger inside of her while I trace shapes around her clit she lets out a gusted breath of relief that leaves me twitching in my pants.

Her body clutches at my fingers greedily, demanding the release that my body wants just as much. A few more minutes of care ministrations later and she has it. As I squirm gracelessly back onto the couch she's still shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm. She's soft and pliant as I line our bodies up, one hand holding onto her hip and the other one keeping myself steady as she braces herself against my shoulders.

She whimpers into my mouth as she slides down over me. I toss her bra away, safe in the knowledge that in his position she won't object since she's well hidden against me. The feel of the tight, peaked tips of her breasts sliding against my chest is enough to make me groan. She wraps her arms around my neck and I help her set a pace; surging up as she slides down, taking on half the work so she doesn't have to do it all.

After initiation when everyone was settling in and pairing up I never thought I'd have this. Even after I met Tris and we finally slept together I didn't understand the big deal. Sex was a physical need like being hungry or thirsty or sleepy. It was pleasurable, but done to satiate a need. I wanted it to be this, to be consuming and essential in a way that was more vital than breathing. After a while I decided that was a fantasy, a pretty romantic lie that didn't exist in real life. And I tried to convince myself of that to temper my disappointment, but then things shifted between Tris and I, and suddenly it wasn't a lie.

I still can't explain exactly _how_ things changed. Part of it is that we're more honest with each other, less careful and more trusting, but there's something else too, something that's just out of reach; a little thought haunting the back of my brain that's as insubstantial and hard to grasp as smoke. Times like these though I feel like I'm closer to understanding it.

"Love you," Tris chokes out, rising like a swell in my arms and calling me back to reality.

"Love you too." My voice is barely coherent. I wrap my arms around her, spanning her back and grazing the scar of the bullet wound in her shoulder. Her hips jerk out an erratic rhythm, her body tightening around mine and pulling me with her. I hold her tight, snapping up into her as she tips her face against my shoulder, teeth gently worrying the bone under the flesh.

She says my name like a prayer when she comes, her body stuttering against mine and her fingers digging in where she's gripping me. It's not something I'll ever get sick of hearing, and in the moment before I come I realize after this weekend I'll always have it. But in the white hot light of my orgasm all thought is extinguished, all I can do is feel the surge of pleasure throb and pulse through my veins.

Tris collapses against me, sated and sleepy in my arms once we both catch our breaths. She rests her head on my shoulder and her fingers idly trace shapes on my biceps. Thankfully there are no tears. I rest my head against the back of the couch, nuzzling against the side of her head and letting her hair tickle my nose.

"Next time we have people over all I'm going to think about is what we did where they're sitting," she says sleepily.

"Yeah, me too," I chuckle.

* * *

 

**Tris**

Outside it must smell like ozone and rain and fresh green things. Spring has blown in with strong winds and unpredictable thunderstorms and heavy rains to wash away the last vestiges of winter. In a few weeks - once the weather grows somewhat milder - we'll be sending our people over the fence.

Inside though, in the warmth and comfort of our bedroom, the air is heavy and humid and thick with the scent of sweat and sex and  _us_. Lately it's been physically impossible for Tobias and I to keep our hands off each other, and we've been spending most nights naked and tangled together. Knowing that he didn't see our tryst in the Control Room as a mistake, that he liked it, has been an incredible aphrodisiac, even more so than the late nights we've kept each other up talking because the after has been a lot better too.

"When I was little lightning used to scare me," I say softly, carding my fingers through his still damp hair where he's resting his head against my stomach as a particularly brilliant burst of it lights up the night sky. I've claimed his shirt and he's pulled on his boxers, but how long either article of clothing will stay on us is anyone's guess.

"It's just electrostatic discharge," Tobias says with a sarcastic smile. "Like when you rub your socks across the carpet to build up a charge and zap somebody. You were scared of that?" His fingers never stop fidgeting with the ring on my finger where it's resting over his heart.

"Like you were never irrationally afraid of anything as a kid," I scoff.

"Sinkholes," he says after a minute. "I used to get panicky when I'd take the bus to elementary school, worrying that a sinkhole would open up and swallow it." He wraps his hand around mine, bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss. "It seems to absurd now, that fear."

I hum in agreement. The fears I had as a child  _do_  seem absurd now; now that I'm an adult and lived through the things I have, I know what real fear is. In some ways it would be nice to go back to that innocence though.

"So, are you scared about this weekend?" He asks, pulling my attention back to him and the violent, vibrant light show mother nature is putting on outside our windows.

"Hoping I'll call off the wedding?" I tease. In less than forty-eight hours we'll be standing in front of our friends saying our vows. And I am scared, but it's of the normal things like tripping and falling as I walk down the aisle or screwing up the vows. I'm not scared of marrying Tobias though.

"Nope," he says smugly, lips popping over the 'p'.

He rolls over, twisting around to cover my body with his, pressing his palms flush with my own, fingers threaded through mine as he pushes them over my head and me flat on my back. "Really? Again?" I ask with a quiet laugh as his lips fasten to my neck.

"It's your own fault," he mumbles, loosening one hand to push my shirt up. I can't help smiling.

This morning when he got out of the shower - before he had a chance to get dressed - I'd pulled him back to bed and taken him in my mouth. By the time I finished he was dazed and weak kneed and five minutes late for a meeting with the Abnegation here to go over the plans for the building on the east side of the Pire they're turning into their new home. Since he couldn't immediately reciprocate he had all day to think about it... just like I planned.

Not that it was easy for me either, but I love that I can have that effect on him, and I'm not above exploiting it. Knowing that he thinks of me as sexy and desirable makes me feel like I am those things and I like feeling that way. Although I was surprised that it affected him so much that he actually came down to the training rooms today. Tori stops by most days, and Harrison actually led the class today, introducing them to using knives in hand-to-hand combat since that's his area of expertise, but Tobias usually prefers to keep track of things through the detailed reports Christina and I submit to the leaders on a weekly basis.

My back arches into the warmth of his mouth as he sucks and licks and nips at my breasts, his free hand working his boxers off his hips. As much as we've been doing this lately there's always a certain amount of impatient fervor, like the only thing that can quench this need is him being inside of me, and I suppose that's pretty much right. It's hard to keep my eyes open as he lines our bodies up, but I force them too, if only to read the silent need reflected back to me in his as he presses into me.

He keeps his body above mine, one arm slipped beneath my lower back to keep my hips tilted up. This is when he's soft and slow and tender. And this makes me feel beautiful too, the reverential way that moves inside and with me. Since our first time he always makes sure that I find my release before he finds his, and this time is no different. We stay pressed together afterwards, the sweat between our bodies melding our bodies together. His weight should be suffocating, but I enjoy this part of it too.

He kisses my ravens like he does every night, an 'I love you' washing across my sticky skin as we part so I can clean up and he can fix the bed. When I come back he's already waiting for me under the covers, his arms pulling me close and tucking me against him so that we can sleep. I want to ask him what he thought of the trainees, but I'm too comfortable and too tired and it can wait for another time.

xxxx

The entire city looks immaculate in the way it only can after a storm has washed it clean of a years worth of grime. It seems to shimmer like an oasis under the bright sun and brilliant cerulean blue of the sky. It's stupid and fanciful but it feels like a gift, all the buildings - even the crumbling ones - turning out in their best for me and Tobias as we ride the train through it towards the Abnegation section of the city. It wasn't until after we'd jumped on outside the Pire that he told me where we were going. Zeke is still throwing us a party tonight, but zip-lining or anything else 'special' has been off the table since I told Uriah about Marlene.

We jump off several blocks out of our way so we won't draw attention to ourselves by walking through the Abnegation neighborhoods. After the simulation attack they had to bury the bodies far enough away that the mass grave wouldn't taint their drinking water and spread disease, but it still lies on the fringes of their part of the city. We make our way between empty buildings until we emerge on a large, flat expanse of land.

I played here as a child, and Tobias probably did too, though now it's completely deserted save for some barren trees and the wall of grey stone I can see in the distance. Tobias squeezes my hand encouragingly and leads me to it. I don't know what kind of stone it is - granite maybe -, but up close there are tiny iridescent flecks that reflect the sunlight.

There are small plants shooting up in the ground around it, though they're not flowering now I know they will blossom into calla lilies - funeral flowers. The Amity who designed it must have taken into account how tall the plants will eventually be because the list of names engraved on the stone stop a few feet above the ground so as not to be hidden by them.

The names are arranged alphabetically so I have no problem finding my family. Tobias is silent behind me, but his hands on my shoulders are an inexpressible comfort. I reach out, gently running my fingers over the name _Andrew Prior_  etched into the stone in blocky letters. My mother's name is directly under his and for some reason knowing that at least here they're together makes the tears pooling in my eyes spill across my cheeks. When my shoulders shake with the force of them Tobias wraps one arm across my chest and the other around my waist, his face tucked against my neck.

We stay like that for a long time, him wrapped around me and my fingers pressed against their names, tears blurring my vision. The tears never really stop, but when my throat is no longer painfully constricted and my shoulders relax Tobias pulls a thin sheet of paper and a chunky length of hard charcoal from his pocket, pressing them into my hand so that I can make a rubbing of the engraving.

"Talk to them," he murmurs, squeezing my hips reassuringly before he wanders off to the other end of the wall. His arms are folded tightly across his chest and his brows are furrowed together. Marcus' name is on this wall too, but from the corner of my eye I can see that Tobias seems to be reading every name as if he's paying each of them his respects instead of just one or two people as I'm doing.

My hands shake as I rub the charcoal across the paper and I have to do it twice to get a clean imagine that doesn't include part of the name of the person above my father, or my name below my mothers. Just seeing it there is surreal. And surprising. Apparently the Abnegation did everything they could to perpetuate the lie of my death. Silently, I thank Marcus for that. Whether he did it for me, or my parents memory, or Tobias doesn't matter.

But I do as Tobias suggests, I talk to them. I tell my parents everything. I tell them about initiation and my ravens representing the people I love and making friends. I tell them about Will and how I still miss him every day, how I still feel guilty and how because of that I carry a part of him with me; how I'm using my guilt as a tool and not a weapon, or at least trying to. I tell them about Tobias and falling in love. I tell them how it isn't always easy, but it is always worth it. I tell them I said yes, and how I wish they could be there tomorrow.

I don't tell them about Caleb.

By the time I finish Tobias has made his way back to me. I know he won't make me leave if I'm not ready. He carefully folds up the piece of paper and tucks it back in his jacket and then pulls me against him so I can dry my tears against his chest. I stay there until the sun makes my skin burn through the black of my clothes despite the crispness of their air. It's not until I come out of hiding that I realize he's got one hand outstretched and pressed over my parents names like I did earlier. His expression is inscrutable, but I get the feeling he's having a conversation of his own.

"Ready?" He finally asks, pulling away enough to cup my face in his hands.

"Yeah," I say weakly, my voice sounding as raw as my throat feels. "Thank you for bringing me here," I add.

"It's important to you," he shrugs before slinging an arm across my shoulders and leading me back the way we came. The ride back to Dauntless is a quiet one. I rest my head against his shoulder the entire way, taking comfort in the solid warmth of his body.

As we approach the Pire I start to stand so we can jump off, but Tobias pulls me back down, shaking his head.

"No?"

"We're going someplace else, too."

"Okay," I say, elongating the word in confusion.

"Someplace happy," he explains, a nervous smile tilting up the corners of his lips.

Twenty minutes later, as navy pier the Ferris wheel come into view I let out a laugh. "Really?"

"Too cheesy?"

"No, it's perfect," I say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. It really is.

I've only ever been here at night and as we walk from the train towards the pier I look around, taking it all in. Like other parts of the city, the abandoned buildings have brown, barren vines climbing up them, nature slowly reclaiming the land in the absence of humans. In the summer I can imagine soft green grass growing up from the cracks in the pavement and flowers twining around the tall metal poles that once must have once held streetlights and signs. In it's way it's probably beautiful and I make a mental note to come back here then.

Just like we did the night we played paintball we stop at the merry-go-round first, and I run my hand over the decaying wood and metal horses fondly. I barely knew Tobias then, but even so I gravitated towards him, always aware of where he was in relation to me. He follows after me, a look of amusement on his face as he watches me greet the place like an old friend.

Eventually we make our way over to the Ferris wheel. In the daytime it looks so much bigger than it did at night, but maybe that's just my imagination. "I feel like I need a tetanus shot just looking at this thing," Tobias grumbles, taking in the sharp edges painted in rust. We don't climb up to the platform as we did that night, but we do sit in one of the basket seats hanging a few feet off the ground. Tobias glares at the floor as if to reprimand it for groaning and swinging as we situate ourselves inside.

Tobias laces our fingers together as we sit side-by-side, tilting his head back to look up at the platform suspended above us. "I wish I could get over my fear of heights," he says softly. "Or any of my fears, really."

"You can't be fearless," I remind him. "You get over one, and another takes it's place, like lightning and sinkholes. I'm sure if I ever go into my fear landscape again my number will be the same; higher, probably, given everything that's happened."

"Still. It feels like failure."

"Maybe you just expect too much of yourself," I say carefully. Tobias has rarely spoken of what it was like growing up under Marcus' iron fist, but uncompromising perfection was something that was expected in that household, and punished severely when it wasn't achieved. "You're only human Tobias; love and fear go hand in hand."

He doesn't say anything, but he does pull me closer, draping my legs over his and curling his arm around my shoulders. It takes a while, but his expression finally clears and he smiles again, drawing me into a conversation about the trainees. "Thornton's a dickbag," he supplies when we start talking about the man with snake tattooed on his arm. "I've never had much to do with him, but what I have hasn't left a good impression."

"Mine's not much better. I don't really see sending him outside of the fence as a good idea."

"Why is he still coming to training then?"

"He's working hard, trying to make up for snapping at me the first day, I guess. Besides, it's not up to me to decide who ends up on the teams."

"Yeah, but you and Christina know them better than any of us," he points out. "We're going to listen to you if you think it's a bad idea."

"Well, Harrison will be in charge of the class for the next few days, so if he agrees with me then I'll tell him not to come back," I shrug.

The conversation carries us back to the train and back to the Pire, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Despite the fact that it felt like Tobias spent most of his time in the training rooms watching me, he did pay attention and was able to pick up on a lot of the nuances that are hard to put into words.

As we shower and change and get ready for the party that's being thrown in our honor my nerves start taking over, making me hands feel clammy and shaky. Uriah and I have barely said three words to each other in the last few weeks, and every interaction with him has caused a landslide of guilt to bury me. Both Tobias and Zeke have tried to cheer me up, telling me he just needs some time, but it still feels cruel to expect him to be happy for me right now when I'm the reason he's not.

I pull on the black dress Christina made me buy during initiation, but I can't help running a hand down the garment bag that hangs next to it containing my wedding dress. It took another week of searching, but we finally found it, the one dress that made it seem like a great idea to buy a dress I'll only ever wear once. It's nothing particularly fancy, but it is perfect for me.

Since we're not expecting any storms tonight the party is being held outside, though the reason for that is still kind of vague to me. Before we even reach the party where it's set up on the side of the Pire opposite the doors I can hear voices and smell the scent of fire and cooking meat. My stomach rumbles hungrily; I haven't eaten all day.

A general cry of greeting echoes through the crowd when they see us, many people lifting cups full of alcohol into the air to toast us. I see Zeke hand off a spatula to Uriah and push himself through the crowd between us and where he's cooking over a couple of fifty gallon drums cut in half and filled with charcoal.

He presses drinks into our hands and slaps Tobias on the back. "For a minute there I thought you guys weren't going to show up."

"It's not like we're going to duck out on a party you're throwing for us," Tobias says, taking a sip of his drink.

I do the same, my eyes scanning the assembled crowd, hoping that Christina or someone - anyone - is bringing me over a plate of whatever's cooking.

"I know," Zeke says. "I just thought with the way you've been keeping busy in bed you might have been distracted. At the rate you two are going you're gonna get her knocked up before Shauna."

At his words I choke on my drink, spitting most of it onto the pavement in front of me, and coughing up the rest of it.

"Jesus, Zeke," Tobias mutters, embarrassment turning his face as red as a beet.

"What?" Zeke shoots back, a look of mock innocence plastered on his face. "It's not like it's a state secret."

"What have you been telling him?" I hiss out as best I can, wiping away the last of my misguided sip.

"Not a thing, Tris," Zeke says sweetly. "But thanks for confirming what we all suspected seeing you walking around Dauntless so flushed and happy looking."

"Can you hold my drink while I break his nose?" Tobias asks, one eyebrow cocked up threateningly.

"Oh come on! It's a compliment," Zeke protests. "And you can't break my nose, I'm your best man!"

"That's debatable," Tobias deadpans.

"Either way, it's my job to embarrass the shit out of you," Zeke says dismissively. "Speaking of which..." he trails off, turning from us, to the rest of our friends. "Hey," he yells out, his voice booming around the space between buildings that has been strung across with tiny lights. "You all know it's my job as best man to tell you all the embarrassing crap Four has done in the years that I've known him-"

"Oh, God," Tobias mumbles, looking down at his feet.

"-and I will, I promise. But just for tonight I want to say something nice." He turns to face me, his arm easily resting across my shoulders, and I can't help shivering a little in fear, my mind flying through every humiliating thing Zeke could say about me. "So I think we all known just how smitten Four was with Tris, and that was great and I was happy for him, but I didn't really get it until we left Candor and came back to the Pit."

It suddenly dawns on me where he's going with this, and though the story is a nice one, just like he promised, I still feel awkward, especially when Zeke is praising me for something any decent human being would do.

"The day we came back I was really broken up about Shauna, and I ran into Tris at the Chasm and I asked her how Shauna could be Dauntless if she couldn't walk. And you know what she said to me?"

You could hear a pin drop our audience is so quiet, and my face feels like it's on fire from the blush flaming across my cheeks.

"She said, sure she can. She can get a wheelchair, and someone can push her up the paths in the Pit and there's an elevator in the Pire and she'll just have to get over having someone help her because she shouldn't let something as stupid as not being able to walk make her drop out of Dauntless."

I chance a peek up through my lashes at the people grouped around us. Shauna has wheeled herself to the front of the crowd and I get the impression this isn't a story that Zeke has ever shared with her, or anyone for that matter, by the look on her face. I can't really see Uriah without turning my head, but the movement I was catching out of the corner of my eye has ceased.

Zeke presses a brotherly kiss to my temple before turning to face Tobias. "So, I guess what I'm saying is, don't fuck this up Four; she's special." Everyone claps at his proclamation, but I just wish a hole would open and swallow me. I still hate being the center of attention. As soon as Zeke releases me Tobias' arm is around my waist.

"How come you never told me about that?"

"I don't know. We weren't really talking at the time and it just never came up."

We make our way into the crowd, accepting well wishes and congratulations right along with hugs and handshakes. Mercifully Christina appears with a plate of food for me since we still haven't worked our way over to the grill. The hamburger probably isn't anything different than we can get in the cafeteria, but after not eating all day it's so good I ask for - and eat - a second.

As the party winds down Zeke and Uriah haul out several big boxes full of fireworks and everyone starts lighting them off. Some whizz into the air like shooting stars, exploding in a rainbow of colors, others shoot off balls of different colored lights, and some are just simple sparklers. All of it is fun though and elicits ooh's and aah's from all of us.

The pyrotechnics last only ten or fifteen minutes with two dozen people lighting them, but it's the perfect end to the party. A chorus of catcalls follows Tobias and I back into the Pire, but I've had enough to drink that I have to lean on him to avoid tripping over my own feet. How Tobias is staying upright I don't know because, like the last party we went to, he has drunk a lot more than me. Either way, the only thing we'll be doing is falling into bed and going to sleep.

xxxx

"You two better be decent," Christina barks out, banging loudly on our bedroom door.

Tobias rolls over, burying his head under a pillow. "How the hell did she get in here?"

"You forgot to lock your front door," Christina says, suddenly looming at the end of our bed. "And it's a good thing too; I've been knocking on it for the last five minutes."

"What time is it?" I croak out, my eyes too blurry with sleep to focus on the clock on the dresser, though by the way light is flooding in through the windows I know it's late in the morning.

"Noon," Christina answers, tugging at the blankets, which only makes Tobias grip them tighter. "And you need to get up so I can make you pretty."

"She's always pretty," Tobias snaps in my defence. "And the wedding isn't for another five hours."

Christina rolls her eyes as if Tobias, being a boy, is just too dumb to understand the need for five hours of grooming. Truth be told, I don't either. "Get out. Go sleep on Zeke's couch for a while or something," she snaps, patience finally exhausted. I'm surprised it's lasted this long.

"Fine," Tobias huffs. "Go wait in the living room while I get dressed."

"How did you get through initiation being so modest you won't even let someone see you in your underwear?" Her face is puckered up for a second before it slips into something more horrified. "Oh God, you're not naked under there are you?"

"I might be," Tobias says seriously. As soon as Christina's out the door he smirks at me, throwing back the covers to reveal a pair of rumpled black boxers. He pulls on his a clean shirt and pants and pulls a pair of dress slacks and a button up shirt from the closet before kissing me goodbye and wishing me luck with Christina.

When she comes back in she's got a sour look on her face and a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin in her hands. "It'll help with the hangover," she says crisply before decamping to the bathroom. Through the open door I can see her pulling a what seems like an endless supply of bottles out of a paper bag, and once that's done she starts running the bath.

"Okay, I lined up the bottles in the order in which you're supposed to use them," she says when I walk in. She's already poured something into the water that has turned it milky white and softly scented like flowers. I nod along as she explains how to use each product, but it feels like it's going in one ear and out the other. She leaves the door cracked open so she can talk to me as I bathe.

The water feels silky and I'm glad she said I could soak in it as long as I want. I make the appropriate noises as she tells me about the latest developments with Michael and explains to me again how to use each product. Why I have to scrub my body with soap and a bristle brush, and then scrub it again a creamy paste that smells like nuts before shaving and then move to the shower to wash my hair and my body once again I don't know, but I follow her directions to a T.

It doesn't stop once I'm out of the shower though. Then I have to apply lotion and wrap myself in a robe so she can pluck my eyebrows and paint my nails, and when that's over with she leads me back into the bathroom to dry and style my hair. We're just taking a break to have some tea and toast - which is all my nervous stomach can handle - when Uriah lets himself in. He looks uncomfortable, like he's not quite sure what he's doing here, and shifts from one foot to the other before handing me a small cardboard box.

"Tobias asked me to give you this. He said you'd know what it's for."

It's cold to the touch like it's been in a refrigerator, but when I pull the top off there are six perfect white violet blooms carefully nested within. In Abnegation when a woman is married she usually wears whatever clothes are clean and whole, nothing special or different from what she wears every day, except for the three white violets they adorn themselves with, usually tucked into their hair.

They symbolize a lot of things. The flowers themselves represent humility and selflessness, and the three is meant to symbolize the three promises of Abnegation vows. Tobias is paying tribute to that tradition, and giving it a Dauntless twist, by providing me with six of them. No one else will probably pick up on it, but we'll both know what it means.

"Can we put these in my hair?" I ask Christina, tilting the box so she can see the contents.

She looks at the elegant twist she's pulled my hair into in the back and the bangs swept across my forehead for a moment, working out their placement before nodding in assent without complaint.

"Keep her company while I take a shower," she says as she breezes past Uriah and into my bedroom.

"You don't have to stay," I say after a minute of awkward silence.

"It's okay," he shrugs, the action easing the tension out of his shoulders. "So... nervous?"

"I'm okay," I lie.

Uriah looks at me for a second before cracking up. "You're still a terrible liar, Tris." He swings around into the kitchen and starts rummaging through the drawers, finally coming up with a battered pack of playing cards. "Come on, we can at least play a couple of rounds of Go Fish while you wait for her."

I don't know if he's forgiven me or if this is just a temporary truce, but either way I'll take it. "So what are Tobias and Zeke doing?" I can't help being a little curious.

"Playing darts when I left. Zeke's trying to get him drunk and Four keeps dumping the drinks down the kitchen sink when he's not looking."

Uriah's won two out of three hands when Christina finishes up in the bathroom and comes out to drag me back in. By the time she finishes up her own makeup and helps me into my wedding dress we've only got fifteen minutes to spare. She arranges the violets in my hair as we ride the elevator to the top of the Pire, claiming the mirrored interior is better than the single pane mirror in my bathroom.

I didn't really expect to look much like myself considering all the work Christina put in, but I do, just... better, I guess. My hair is shinier than usual and pulled into a sleek updo. My eyes are piercingly lined in khol, but it's a very thin line and accentuated by a subtle, skin toned shimmery powder on my lids. My cheeks are rouged, but it looks like I'm faintly blushing instead of wearing makeup, the same way my lips are only a shade darker than they usually are since Christina mixed the barest amount of lipstick into a clear gloss.

The dress is perfect, just as I thought before. It's fitted and black, but has a delicate lace overlay that reaches to my knees, is cut in a V across my collar to highlight my ravens and covers my arms with three-quarter sleeves, effectively covering the ugly patch of Erudite blue ink on my one arm. My nails are painted the same rich, deep red as the bouquet of roses I'm holding in my hand, the stems wrapped in silky black ribbon.

I look pretty, and grown up, but I still look like me.

Christina gives herself a quick once-over, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in her plain black dress. It's very different from my own; the bodice is fitted and the skirt is fully and floaty, but it's black and modest and that's all I asked of my maid of honor. When the elevator doors open Michael is waiting, and his eyes immediately light up when he sees her.

Standing here it finally hits me that I'm really doing this, I'm marrying Tobias. All of the sudden I feel shaky and weak and the faint nervous nausea that's been plaguing me all day blooms into something that threatens to end with me vomiting all over my pretty little kitten heeled shoes.

"Everybody ready?" He asks, looking over Christina's head to me.

I nod because I don't trust my stomach enough to open my mouth.

The gates leading into the garden are closed, but when he raps his knuckles against them the crowd on the other side falls silent. Christina grips my shoulders, shaking me lightly. "You're going to be fine. Four's waiting for you on the other side, so just focus on him if you're nervous."

I don't bother telling her that Tobias is the main source of my nervousness right this moment. "Do you have his ring?" I eek out.

"Right here," she says, opening her fisted hand to reveal a simple silver band. "Ready?"

"Not really."

"You'll be fine," she says again, a wry smile gracing her features.

She takes her place behind me and on her command Michael and Uriah open the gates. For a second, when all eyes turn to me, I'm stuck in place. But then Christina pokes me sharply in the back and I nearly stumble into my first step.

My eyes reel around until they land on Tobias standing off to one side of Harrison and flanked by Zeke. It feels like I'm in a dream, my feet carrying me towards him without thought or action on my part. But by the time I'm ten feet away I've snapped out of my daze, and my steps are my own and they're confident, in no small part because of the way he's looking at me.

Tobias' cheeks are flushed pink, and his eyes are filled with something like awe beneath their glassy surface. When I reach him he takes on my hands in his own, and - like he just can't stop himself - he leans in and chastely kisses my cheek before turning his attention to Harrison who is officiating.

"Friends, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of Beatrice and Tobias."

At the use of my full name Tobias's eyebrow lifts, but he doesn't interrupt. We both stand quietly, and patiently, hands clasped together like the Abnegation symbols adorning our bodies as he explains to our friends how we asked to include the values of all the factions in our vows, and his hope that more couples in the future will do the same. It's strange to be in a room full of Dauntless and have them all so silent and solemn; the last time it happened Eric was just about to die.

Harrison keeps his comments short, and soon enough Tobias is repeating the vows that we wrote together, incorporating being selfless, and kind, and intelligent, and honest, as well as brave enough to love. His voice is steady and certain, but his have trembles just a little as he slips the wedding band on my finger with his free hand. I have to trade Christina my bouquet for his ring, but I manage to do the same for him without tripping over my words or fumbling the ring.

The last part of the ceremony - the Dauntless part of the ceremony - requires slicing across each other palms like we did during the choosing ceremony. It struck me as odd when when Harrison told us about it. You would think in a society that proclaimed 'faction before blood', a bond reinforcing just the opposite would be frowned upon. But as Harrison explained it, it's not about a blood bond, it's about the trust and bravery required to let someone else inflict an injury, no matter how minor.

The knife Tobias uses is so sharp it stings more than it hurts, but he winces right along with me as he pulls the blade across my skin. The thought of hurting him is enough to churn my stomach, but I do it quick and hastily return the knife to Harrison. As soon as it's out of my hands, before Harrison can even get out the words 'you can now kiss your bride', Tobias has his arms wrapped around me and pulls my chest flush with his. Unlike our earlier kiss it's anything but chaste.

When we finally break apart to the hoots and hollers of our closest friends - our surrogate family, really - he traces the line of my nose with his. "Beatrice?" He questions softly, ignoring the crowd around us.

"It's a special occasion."

"I guess so," he says through a smile, kissing me again.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the ending might be a disappointment to some, but I purposefully left it open-ended for a reason.

_Tricia Bishop_

I frown down at my signature. It's stilted and childlike in it's uncertainty even though I carefully formed each letter, fighting against the muscle memory of signing my name 'Beatrice Prior'. I know no one will question it at the Hub when Harrison files the marriage certificate, but it seems glaringly fake to me, despite the hours I spent practicing hoping to make it come more naturally.

But it's not just that, that bothers me. I'm not Tricia Bishop. We only have two things in common, Tricia and I: the first, that our families are dead, the second, that we both died in the final battle at Erudite headquarters, and it is a lie. Here I stand, flushed with life and a stolen name, and somewhere in the city beyond the windows she lies in a mass grave, decomposition slowly reclaiming her body the same way Tobias did her identity when he hacked the cities records.

Maybe it shouldn't bother me much, it's just a name after all, but after everything we've been through I've come to recognize the power a name can hold. And now for the third time in little more than a year I have a new one: Tris Eaton. I don't have to take Tobias' name, and I didn't take it for the safety it has provided in the past; I took it because it is home and family and us, more so than my assumed name ever was. And my signature is at least a little more elegant when I sign the bottom of the form affirming my choice.

Tobias takes the pen from my hand delicately, just a whisper of his skin against mine as he adds his signature to the appropriate lines before passing it off to Zeke and Christina who are serving as our witnesses. I don't know how Zeke's upright, let alone able to sign his name legibly considering how much - very alcoholic - punch I've seen him drink since the party started hours ago. Tobias' arm slides around my shoulders and he leans in, close enough that I can feel his breath rustling my hair when he whispers in my ear. "You okay?"

"Fine. Tired," I add when I can tell he's unconvinced. "It's been a long day." It's not a lie. It has been a long day and after spending all day with Christina and hours partying with our friends, really the only person I want right now is Tobias.

A cheer goes up from outside and I wonder if Uriah and Lauren just won another round of beer pong. They have spent the entire night glued to each others sides, first sitting together while we ate a big buffet-style dinner, then drinking and dancing, and for the last hour teaming up to be an unstoppable beer pong duo. It makes me curious if they'll go home together tonight.

We moved the wedding party from the garden to Max's old apartment; drinking, Dauntless daring, and deadly plants not mixing well even in theory. There are no personal effects in the office - in the entire place actually - just furniture since no one's lived here since the war. It feels strange, as if his ghost is haunting the dark corners even though there's a raucous party raging on the other side of the door.

"Do you want to go home?" His lips are right at my ear, brushing lightly over peaked ridges of the shell like we're secretly plotting some heinous crime. And there's a note of hopefulness in his voice. Even if we weren't raised Abnegation I think it would be difficult to square staying at a party being thrown in your honor with the selfish desire to leave it. I nod, wrapping my arm around his waist.

When Harrison announces he's leaving as he carefully places the wedding certificate in a folder for safe keeping, Tobias tells everyone we are too.

"Aww, come on. You guys can't leave yet," Zeke whines, pleading with his bloodshot eyes.

"You won't be happy until we all pass out drunk," Tobias smirks.

"And?" Zeke challenges.

"We're going home," Tobias says, rolling his eyes.

It still takes us twenty minutes to make it through the mass of people in the apartment and to the elevator. The quiet of it is a sharp contrast to the party we left, and once we're safely inside Tobias leans against one wall, reeling me in and holding me against him. Today has been filled with happiness, but happiness is fleeting, made up of bright, shining moments that burst like bubbles. This, what I'm feeling pressed against his chest, is contentment; subdued, but more steady and permanent than happiness can ever really be.

"You look really beautiful today," he murmurs, tipping his face to rest it against the top of my head.

My cheeks burn at his compliment; I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea of 'beautiful' being applied to me. "You too," I say, fingers itching at the back of his dress shirt.

"I looked beautiful?" He teases.

"Handsome," I correct. "And yes, you did - do." His simple dress shirt and slacks aren't really that different from what he wears every day, not really, not in essence, but he does look handsome. And it didn't hurt that the pants were very... well,  _flattering_. Tobias choked on his drink when Liam mentioned he never noticed what a great ass he had until today.

When the elevator chimes signaling that we've reached our floor I pull back only to find that I've left a flesh-colored smudge on his shirt. "Ugh... I need to wash this off," I grumble, taking his hand as we walk down the hall. And now that my attention has been drawn to it the layers of paint and powder covering my skin feel foreign and suffocating. Hopefully Christina left me something to remove it all because I don't think soap and water is going to do the job.

Tobias comes to an abrupt stop several feet away from our door, a noise of annoyance pulling my attention, first to him, and then to our door... which has been obnoxiously covered in crepe paper streamers and a big hand drawn sign that says 'Just married - Do not disturb'. "I'll deal with this, and you can go wash up," he offers. By the time I slip into the apartment he's got a smirk on his face, either from gleefully tearing down our friends handiwork, or maybe finally seeing the humor of it, I'm not sure.

As expected, I have to wash my face three times to get all the gunk off, and by the time I'm finished my eyes are stinging and red from having to scrub them with soap to remove the last sticky residue of mascara. I move on to removing the bobby pins from my hair, but they keep getting tangled. When I walk back out into the living room Tobias has shoved the coffee table out of way tossing the throw pillows on the couch onto the plush rug in front of the fireplace.

Over the last few months we bought the rug and pillows, and started keeping a few blankets folded over the back of the couch. To anyone else it looks perfectly innocent, a couple 'feathering their nest' as it were, but there have been some nights where we haven't made it into the bedroom, and after learning the painful lesson that hardwood leads to bruised shins we decided to do something about it. The simple solution would have been keeping our lovemaking to the bedroom, but we could never quite manage it. Besides, it's just nice, stretching out in front of the fireplace even if we aren't naked.

"Can you help?" I tug at one of the more stubborn pins, wincing as it pinches my scalp in retaliation. Wordlessly Tobias sits on the couch, motioning me to sit on the floor between his legs. "Be careful with the flowers," I murmur, "I want to save them."

His fingers dip tentatively into my updo, working the bobby pins out painlessly and letting each coiled length of hair they were holding up fall softly around my shoulders. It's an oddly intimate gesture, more so really than him undressing me. And it makes me feel what I was too numb to feel after we escaped from Erudite and he washed my feet; safe, protected, loved, and ultimately what those things boil down to: being cared for. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. I suppose it's what we do for each other every day in small ways, but this feels like a promise.

The only sound is the soft ruffle of clothes, the nearly soundless whisp of fingers against hair, and the occasional muffled _tink_  of metal as Tobias piles the pins up on his knee. When he finishes with my hair his fingers fall to the row of tiny buttons studded down my spine, unthreading each of them deftly, like his hands were made for this work. He offers me his button up shirt, which had been thrown over the arm of the couch once he's done, an amused smile curling up his lips when he sees how many times I have to roll up the sleeves so my hands peek out.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers and undershirt he stretches out on the floor next to me. His right hand twists the ring on his finger restlessly. "You get used to it," I say, gently pulling his hand away. It took me days to not be constantly distracted by my engagement ring; the unfamiliar weight and constriction was irritating until it wasn't. "Did you see the inscription in your ring?"

He cocks an eyebrow up questioningly and slips the ring off, holding it up so it can catch the dancing light from the fireplace and reveal the engraving. His expression gives nothing away, and after a few minutes of expectant silence I start to worry. I didn't think I could really go wrong with  _I choose you_. And maybe it is the right sentiment, just said too late; after all he  _chose me_  by staying in Dauntless before I even realized I liked him. Maybe he expected more.

It's not... right... is it? You don't like it," I say, reaching out to snatch the little circlet of silver from between his fingers. Instead the ring disappears into his hand and he so quickly pulls me down to hum that a soft umph is knocked out of my lungs when I fall against his chest.

"It's perfect. I just never had anyone..." he trails off for a minute looking lost before his eyes refocus on me. "I never had anyone choose me, and I never thought I would." He looks vulnerable and childlike as he says it, a stark contrast between the assertive and certain man he usually is.

It might be the saddest thing I've ever heard, and it makes my heart clench painfully. And it temporarily steals away any response I might have because what do you say to that?

"I never thought I'd have a home or a family of my own," he says softly, one hand slipping under the hem of my shirt to rest at the small of my back and the other weaving into my hair again. "Before I met you I convinced myself that I didn't want it, any of it. And it took me until I threw knives at your head for me to accept that I wanted you - that I wanted that with you."

Slowly, he pulls me down and raises up slightly to fit his lips against mine. Since I still don't have words I try to put all things I'm feeling into the kiss. When we finally can stand to put a hairsbreadth of space between us his expression is as awestruck and reverential as it was when he caught sight of me walking down the aisle.

We stay up all night talking and kissing in front of the fireplace and watch the sunrise as we drink down a bottle of champagne Shauna left for us when she slapped the sign on our front door. And it is certainly more meaningful than if we'd just come home and had sex like everyone expected us to.

* * *

The area surrounding the Pire is a beehive of activity. Every Abnegation who can sling electrical cables or hammer nails are swarming around the building they're turning into their new home. Bud's voice rings out from one of the open windows, and as Christina and I walk up the street with our trainees he comes out the front doors, dodging a couple men carrying a slab of drywall.

It gets even more crowded as a line of Amity trucks roll up. I'm unsurprised to see Robert descend from the cab of one - he's been visiting Susan every chance he gets -, but I am surprised to see Johanna climb down as well; she's never made the trek to deliver food to Dauntless, at least as far as I know. When Robert catches sight of me he jogs over and carefully hugs me. "You look good, Tris."

I can't help laughing, both at the fact that he's parroting Tobias' words - though the meaning is completely different -, and because I've got smudges of neon green and pink paint covering me from the modified game of capture the flag we were playing with the trainees. It was meant to instil stealthy stalking and evasion techniques in case they need them outside the fence, but I think all we really accomplished was getting smeared with paint.

"It's actually  _Mrs. Eaton_  now," Christina chimes from next to me, a mischievous smirk twisting up her lips. I glare at her. 'Mrs. Eaton' is still Evelyn in my mind and I don't appreciate the comparison. Something that Christina knows and has been enjoying tormenting me with in the week and a half since the wedding.

"You got married?" Robert asks, his expression a little bewildered, but happy for me too.

"Yes, we did," Tobias says cooling, appearing over Robert's shoulder flanked by Tori and Johanna.

Robert visibly pales when Tobias gives him his best Four glower and slips an arm around my waist. "Oh well, congratulations," Robert stutters before waving goodbye and hurrying off to find his sister. Christina follows after her, departing with a small wave, eager to clean up and meet Michael since it's his day off.

"Was that really necessary?" I say, elbowing Tobias in the side.

"Probably not," he says, looking like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Johanna ignores our tete-a-tete, falling into easy conversation with Bud and an older Abnegation man named Benedict. Bud was a natural choice the renovation, with his Dauntless eye creating defensible space, and Amity knowledge of construction. A few nights ago at dinner he entertained the entire table telling a story about how he and his brother built a treehouse with little more than odd shaped pieces of scrap wood and duct tape.

Since I've got nothing better to do I follow along with Tobias and the other as they tour the building. The last time I was here they had just gutted it, so the change is astounding. Now there are smooth, clean walls being put up, and pretty stained glass light fixtures they were able to salvage and rewire dot the ceilings and hallways. The bottom floor contains two large halls: one for meetings and the other for dining, with a utilitarian kitchen attached to the latter. Like the house Tobias and I visited on the outskirts of the city the windows are covered with bars. Apparently Bud couldn't procure any of the blast-resistant glass the Pire is sheathed in.

The next floor up contains dormitories, one each for men and women sixteen or older. It's really not so different from the one I lived in during Dauntless initiation, though there is a nice communal lounge set up by the windows that overlook the Pire. Above that are apartments. None contain anything more than a kitchenette, living room, and bedrooms. Bathrooms are communal, and because of the lack of space most meals will be eaten downstairs.

It's not luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but I guess safety trumps the comfort and privacy a normal Abnegation home would afford. The roof is a surprise though, and the reason that Johanna is here. Instead of the usual tar-paper and pebble roofs all the buildings surrounding the Pire have, there are large planter boxes meant for growing vegetables covering it. There are even half a dozen fruit trees settled in pots that reach the bottom of my thighs. According to Johanna they're miniatures, but will produce as much fruit as a regular sized tree; a special genetic modification Erudite created.

Despite the Dauntless tattoos covering Bud, up here among the rich smelling earth, talking to Johanna about how to make things grow he looks more alive than I think I've ever seen him. It's all very practical - the planters help hold heat in the building during the winter, and keep it cool during the summer, as well as providing food -, but there's clearly an art to it I've never appreciated.

As they chat workers start bringing up the same high efficiency solar panels Amity uses along with spools of wiring to connect them to each other and batteries to store any excess energy. From what I gather they'll be set up around the perimeter of the roof. Though Tobias seemed only vaguely interested in the garden, he's enthusiastic about anything remotely technological so while he's occupied talking to a short, stalky Amity man about how the panels work I wander over to the edge of the building.

There's still a crowd of Dauntless and Amity unloading food, but between shouted directions I can hear people cracking jokes and bursts of effervescent laughter floating up to my ears. It's nice, peaceful. Inevitably my eyes catch onto the newly built roadblocks surrounding the area though reminding me that any peace is still fragile.

Since this building was never meant to be a pretty fortress like the Pire there are newly constructed roadblocks on all the streets leading to us. They're not much, just hip-high plastic barriers filled with concrete or sand, purposefully easy to climb over if we need to escape, but they'll at least provide an obstacle to vehicles. The only time they're moved is when we're expecting deliveries like today, but they will be put back in place as soon as Amity leaves.

Tobias has spent all of the last week setting up surveillance cameras in a three block radius around us too as another layer of protection. He would have liked to extend them further, bring all the cameras that were scattered throughout the city before the war back online, but the Factionless have made a habit of destroying them.

I don't know if it's really enough to make the Abnegation feel safe again, maybe they never will after watching their friends and families dragged out of their homes and shot in the streets. I don't know how they could stay in their part of the city. Did they just hose away the blood and pretend it never happened? I still can't look at the spot in the hallway where my father died without seeing his ghost and the phantom puddle of blood spilling out under him. Anyway, at least they have finally seemed to accept that selfish as the instinct to stay alive is, there's little you can do for others when you're dead.

* * *

Zeke and Tobias circle around the billiard table, cues in one hand and beers dripping with condensation in the other. He looks considerably more at ease than he did a few hours when he was gritting his teeth so hard I thought they'd shatter.

The Abnegation move-in went smoothly enough, but Evelyn showed up, guard dog Edward in tow, turning the whole thing into an exercise slowly simmering enmity. Christina and I were still in the training rooms so we completely missed it, but from the ill-concealed whispers that met us when we walked into the cafeteria for dinner I know my name got dragged into the fray. It was probably a good thing then that Zeke ushered us to the Pit for pizza and beer and billiards; Tobias looked like he was ready to strangle someone.

"So after training wraps up tomorrow you guys will be out of a job," Shauna says, cutting into my thoughts. Christina is sitting between us, as much a literal buffer as a figurative one. Shauna has been carefully polite ever since our engagement party, but it's easier with Christina here, for both of us. "Any idea what you're going to do after?"

Christina shrugs. "I just hope I'm not assigned to the infirmary; collecting urine samples isn't something I'd wake up excited to do every morning."

"What about you, Tris?" Shauna hesitantly asks.

"I don't know. I guess whatever they ask me to do. I can't really leave the compound though. Maybe something with Amity since it's the only place I'm allowed to go, or the Abnegation I suppose, since they're our new neighbors."

"Yeah, about that," Shauna says awkwardly. "I was thinking that we should maybe start setting up a school for the kids." I'm not surprised by this, ever since she started trying to get pregnant Shauna has been more focused on the kids around the compound. "I mean they've already missed a year, and now that we've got the Stiffs... it just seems like we should do something about it. It doesn't look like the city will be safe enough to send them to our old schools for a while yet."

She watches me expectantly. I haven't really had anything to do with Shauna directly since she found out Tobias and I were Divergent. The few times we've interacted since tense because of it, although I guess she can't really distrust me anymore if she's talking about working with me. "It's a good idea," I hedge, "but it will require a lot of work. We'd need teachers, a place to hold classes, books..." I trail off, making a mental list of everything needed to compose a classroom.

Shauna waves dismissively. Apparently she's given the idea a lot of thought, going so far as to check out unused storage rooms in the basement to turn into classrooms, and as for books and other school supplies, according to her we should just 'borrow' them from the schools themselves. It sounds a lot like stealing, but if we're planning to give everything back when the schools reopen it doesn't seem so awful.

She's still sketching out her plans when Tobias drops into the chair next to me and reaches for a slice of pizza while Zeke and Uriah share a game of pool. He patiently listens to her pitch as he eats. It makes me wonder if that's why she talked to me about it in the first place; hoping I'd bring the idea to Tobias and get his approval since the decision ultimately rests with him and the other leaders. It's not a very cheerful thought - and probably born from spending so much time around Tobias -, but I guess it's a step up from her awkward forced politeness.

By the time we leave Tobias is at least not murderously angry, but I can tell he's still upset about the scene with his mother today. I wait until we're in the privacy of our apartment to ask him about it though. "So are you going to tell me what she said about me?" I ask once we're settled in bed, Tobias' chest pressed against my back and his arm slung across my waist.

"It wasn't so much her as Edward," he says, his breath a curious mix of cool peppermint and bitter hops. "At least at first. She's still not your biggest fan, but her bigger problem is the Abnegation. She's... I don't know... I think she's tormenting them - however subtly - for excommunicating her."

I still have my doubts about that. But it's a touchy subject with Tobias - for obvious reasons -, and not something I want to rehash.

"Anyway, they knew we were married and Edward made certain assumptions about why that was, asking if you trapped me into it by getting knocked up." By the time he finishes his voice is tight and angry. "I told him if he ever talked about my wife like that again a butter knife to the eye was going to be the least of his worries. That sobered him up."

It seems like I'm one of the few people who aren't cowed by an angry Tobias, although having been on the receiving end of his outrage a few times I can understand not wanting to push him.

"I can't really make the same threat against Evelyn though - promising violence it just wrong considering what Marcus did to us -, but once Edward backed down she insinuated that you're using me, which is fucking ironic coming from her," he scoffs.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," I say flatly. "What am I even supposed to be using you for anyway? I get that people could have thought that during initiation, but now? It's ridiculous," I snap, getting angry myself.

"She's never going to get past the fact that you see through her bullshit, though I think she assumes that if you weren't around she'd have better luck using me the way she wants to." He buries his face in my hair, sighing humidly against my neck. "Makes me wish even more that we could have taken Prior as our surname."

"You only see the bad associated with 'Eaton', Tobias, but you're the good in it," I say quietly. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation.

"You too." He nudges at my shoulder with the tip of his nose and I twist around so we can share a wet, sloppy kiss. My nose scrunches up at the leftover taste of beer, and he chuckles at me before settling back down and pulling me even closer so we can both fall asleep.

* * *

With the teams having been selected to go outside the fence, I'm at loose ends. There's going to be another party tonight in Max's old apartment, a sort of 'going away' thing for them with everyone involved in the project as well as their friends and family. It seems kind of morbid considering we don't know if they're ever coming back.

We're all supposed to bring our favourite foods so we can have a real feast, and since I've got nothing else to fill my time at the moment I decide to make some banana bread. Or try to anyway. My first attempt looked more like a brick than a loaf of bread. I'm still not quite sure where I went wrong with it, but the only place it was going was the trashcan. Thankfully my second attempt is edible, and actually pretty good though not as delicious as the loafs my mother used to make.

I cut a few thin slices for Tobias and I to have with our lunch and make my way down to the dining hall to pick some sandwiches for us before going to the Control Room. He's not there when I knock on the door, so I end up waiting in the hallway for about twenty minutes. When he does arrive he's full of apologies. Apparently he was helping the Abnegation with their control room and it ended up taking longer than he thought it would.

As we sit down to work he quickly checks over the Dauntless system, sorting through various alerts and fixing minor software glitches as he goes along. I don't interrupt him. Since we've been eating lunch together most days I've realized what a big job it is just to keep it all running on a day-to-day basis even when he hasn't got any big projects going on with it.

By the time he reaches a point where he can pause in his work the food is finished and he tugs me into sitting on his lap because this is part of our lunchtime ritual too. "How did it go with the Abnegation?" I ask as he absently toggles through the feed from the cameras around the Pire.

"Okay. Ethan actually cracked a joke. I was so shocked I couldn't laugh."

"Was it funny?"

"Not really, but I think the fact he's trying not to be inhumanly patient and polite is something."

"You should know better than to think the Abnegation are humorless," I point out. It's one thing for the other factions to think that, but Tobias grew up in Abnegation like I did, and though my sarcasm was frowned upon we spent a lot of afternoons after school playing and joking.

"Yeah,  _as kids_. But he's supposed to act like a grown up now and that pretty much precludes being anything other than stoic and serious."

"So, like you then?" I tease, earning a grumpy scowl in return. "It's okay. If you started suddenly acting like Zeke and Uriah I'd think you'd suffered brain damage or something."

He pinches my side in teasing reprimand and then scoots me off his lap so he can attend to a fresh round of alerts hitting his inbox with an obnoxious chime he can't ignore. I clean up the dirty plates, knowing they'll only clutter up his desk if I don't do it. For as fastidiously clean as he is at home, his desk is always in disarray.

"Tori wants everyone to be upstairs for the party at seven thirty, but if you're going to be working late I can just meet you there," I say. When a minute slips by without any response, even a distracted 'okay' I so often get when he's absorbed in his work, I poke his shoulder. "Hey, did you hear me? I said I can meet you upstairs if you're running late tonight."

"Sit down," he snaps.

"Wh-what?" I stutter, confused and put on edge by his sudden intensity.

"Sit." He blindly reaches out and grabs the chair I was sitting in as we ate, shoving it towards me with such force it painfully collides with my knees.

"What's going on?"

"Shhh," he hisses, fingers flying across the keyboard, as he hunches forward to squint at the monitor.

I bite my lip bloody trying to keep quiet, and it takes everything I have to sit still and not give into the adrenalin fueled fight or flight instinct screaming through my veins. A map pops up on Tobias' screen, and it takes me a moment to recognize that it's a map of Amity. There are three concentric lines reaching out from into the barren space beyond their fields. One of them is blinking red. It's another minute and a half before a video feed replaces it, showing a convoy of of strange looking vehicles. They're similar to the Amity trucks, but fully enclosed as if to seat many people.

I slam my hand down on top of Tobias' where it's working on the keyboard, forcing him to look at me. "What is going on?" I bite out, stress making my voice terse and tight.

Tobias swallows thickly. "Whatever is out there is coming," he says cryptically.

All I can do is gape at him stupidly. He doesn't try to pry my hand off of his own, just reaches out with his free one and picks up a little used phone. His voice sounds miles away as he relays the information to Harrison and orders him and Tori into the Control Room. By the time they arrive I've recovered enough to be pacing and chewing my nails.

"How far away?" Tori asks bruskly, her and Harrison crowding around Tobias' desk.

"Ten miles south of Amity. I lost sight of them on the camera monitoring that sensor. I'm waiting to pick them up again when they hit the sensor that's five miles out."

"How long?" Harrison asks.

"I don't know. A couple of hours? They looked to be moving pretty slowly, but once they hit roads they'll move quicker."

A phone starts ringing, shrill and insistent, interrupting them. Tobias slaps the speakerphone button with an annoyed huff. "What do you want Micah?"

"How did you know it was me?" Micah asks, baffled.

"I bashed my way into your video surveillance feeds five minutes ago, call it a hunch," he deadpans.

"Yeah, about that-"

"I really don't have time for this, Micah. If you want to get pissed at me, fine. I've had a backdoor into your system for three months, and if you're not too stoned on Amity bread you might notice that there's a line of trucks coming towards you from land that's supposed to be so toxic it's uninhabitable."

Tobias doesn't even wait for a response before he hangs up on him. "We need to get everyone back here and lock down." If he was expecting an argument, he doesn't get one. Tobias types out a short message to the electronic pagers all the fence and Amity guards carry, ordering them back to the Pire while Tori uses the phone to call the Candor leaders and alert them to what's going on.

"What can I do?" I ask, finally shaking myself out of my stupor.

Tobias twists around in his chair, fixing me in place with his gaze. Even though he's perfectly silent there's a back-and-forth between us. He's pleading with me not to do anything rash and reckless, I'm pleading with him to do _something_. He licks his lips slowly before he speaks. "Have Christina bring the trainees up to the fear landscape room. They're our best shooters; we need to get them up high - put them on the buildings surrounding the Pire so they can have clear shots."

"We don't know that whoever is coming means us any harm," Harrison says harshly. "Do we really need snipers?"

I've never been to any of the leadership meetings, so I have no idea what the dynamic is between Tori, Harrison, and Tobias is like in private, but Harrison is so at ease in public it's surprising to hear his normally relaxed voice take on a hard edge.

"And really, wouldn't it make more sense to attack at night, if their intention was to hurt us?"

Tobias looks at him levelly, no hint of anger in his expression. "I'd rather not wait to find out. If they start shooting, we need to be able to defend ourselves."

"I think Four's right, Harrison. Plan for the worst and hope for the best, remember?" Tori interjects, momentarily pausing her phone conversation.

Once Harrison realizes he's outnumbered he concedes with a shrug. "Just make sure they know not to start shooting unless we're under attack," he says to me.

Tobias nods to me very slightly, telling me to go.

As I sprint down to the training rooms where Cara is spending the day familiarizing the trainees with her inventions for their trip I'm struck by how calm the compound is. Everyone is walking around, completely oblivious to the advancing threat. No one - not Tobias, or Harrison, or Tori - has sounded the alarm here, at least not yet.

When I burst through the training room doors I'm met by Cara and a dozen confused faces. I take a deep breath, as much to quell the aching of my lungs as to steady myself. "I need you all to go upstairs to the fear landscape room," I order in my best 'instructor voice'. Everyone is so confused for a moment they just keep staring at me. "Now!" I bark, and then they scramble. In any other situation it would be funny.

Once they're all out the door I shut it and quickly cross the room to Cara. "I don't have much time, okay? No Erudite questions. There are some people from beyond Amity on their way to the city. We're locking down Dauntless until we know why. I need you to find Christina and have her come to the fear landscape room." A pale, pea green tint seems to overtake her face, moving steadily from her hairline to the collar of her shirt. Her lips are a thin line, but she nods resolutely and walks out the door.

I'm halfway back to the Control Room when Tori's voice crackles over the public address system, briefly explaining the situation. I expect to hear the whole building scream in terror, and though I see panic and fear in the faces around me I also see a resolute determination to fight. Not everyone here was born Dauntless, but in this moment we're all brave in the face of the unknown.

I allow the flood of people moving towards the Pire to carry me up. I have to fight my way across the glass floor to the fear landscape room, dodging people with guns moving towards the doors as much as anything else. Tobias reaches out for me once I get close enough. "I need you to go with Harrison over to the Abnegation," Tobias says quietly, one arm firmly anchored around my waist. "Just make sure everyone is inside and away from the windows and then come back here."

"Okay." I kiss him quickly and take the hand Harrison has extended to me. His palm is cool and dry and so much different than Tobias', but there's comfort in it all the same.

When we get outside there's a flock of Abnegation parents ushering their children inside. I don't know if the PA system sounded out here or if their building is somehow hooked into it, but they seem to know what's going on. Harrison and I hang back, making sure we're the last people through the door of their building. Their leaders are already pushing their way through the crowd to meet us.

"Get everyone into the upper floors," Harrison says without preamble. "Keep them in the hallways, away from the windows in case there's gunfire."

Joshua, a red faced man who used to work with my father and is now one of the faction leaders, nods solemnly before repeating it for the crowd in a booming voice. Without protest the people around us move as one, save for the leaders and handful of young men and women not much older than Tobias and I who are quickly checking the windows to make sure they're locked before firmly drawing the blinds across them so no one can see inside.

Joshua and the other Abnegation leaders follow Harrison and I back to the Pire. A mousy looking young woman secures an iron gate and then a heavy wooden door once we're clear of the building. The streets surrounding Dauntless have an eerie, expectant feel to them made only more apparent by the black-clad people taking up positions on the roofs around us.

Tori and Tobias are waiting for us in the control room. It feels stuffy and crowded with all of us and the Abnegation packed inside. There's not enough chairs to go around and while the Abnegation take on the aspect of faint grey ghosts hovering around us almost immediately, Tobias pulls me onto his lap like he does when we're alone.

There's nothing left to do but wait.

And it's excruciating.

The minutes scrape like razors across my nerves and every time the phone rings or sensor goes off or we catch sight of the trucks moving towards us on the video feeds panic settles in my stomach like a lead weight. The fence and Amity guards turn up after a while, dumping their belongings inside the Pire and then loitering in the street, handguns tucked into their waistbands and rifles swinging off their shoulders.

Tobias' nervous fingers have rubbed the same exposed patch of skin on my arm so insistently it's painful and raw under his touch, but I let him do it since it seems to calm him down the same way he's ignoring me chewing on my nails for the same reason.

The trucks don't stop at Amity, skirting out to the west before coming flush with the fence and following it to the gate. It's been closed and locked and the Factionless guards have disappeared like our own. A man in a dark suit gets out of the lead vehicle and enters in a code. In the corner of Tobias's screen a small window pops open, the words 'master override code entered at Amity gate' blinking in green.

"I thought you changed the code," Tori says accusingly.

"I did," Tobias says simply. "I didn't know there was an override code; no one did."

I count ten trucks coming through the fence, each the same uniform black with darkly tinted windows. Once it becomes clear that Dauntless is their destination Tori makes another announcement over the PA. Slowly the people in the Control Room start drifting outside until Tobias and I are alone again.

His hand smoothes up my arm, over my shoulder to rest against my neck. My heart is beating so hard I'm sure he can feel the pulse of it under the thin skin of my neck. He pulls me down, slotting his lips against mine. There are a lot of things I want to tell Tobias right now; things that I don't have words for but that I feel so strongly it makes me feel too weak to bear them; things that can only said in the press of my lips against his.

Even after we pull away, we sit there for a long time, forehead-to-forehead, skin-to-skin, so intertwined it's hard to say where I end and he begins. Eventually he leans back in his chair, looking up at me with mild curiosity. "If I told you to stay inside, away from danger, would you?"

I brush the fringe away from his forehead, considering him. "Would you?"

We both know the others answer. It's why we love each other.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11 months later an unexpected epilogue appears. What can I say? I like surprising you guys, and I wanted to do something special to celebrate TPD surpassing 400,000 views on FFN.
> 
> Many of you have asked (and begged) for an epilogue or continuation of this story since Allegiant came out, and though I've played around with a few ideas over the months nothing really worked, and, much to my horror and frustration, I found I could not write from Tris' POV since I read it until now (and a special thank you to jandjsalmon for pre-reading this to make sure I got that back). While I did use some ideas from Allegiant for this, rest assured, all your favourite characters are still alive :)
> 
> To those of you (and again, there were many) who have been using this as an alternative to Allegiant, and recommending others do the same, I don't even know what to say other than I'm incredibly flattered. Thank you all so much for the enthusiastic embracing of this fic, from the day I started it, to the day I finished it, and in the months between then and now. I love you all ~ LolaBleu

**Epilogue:**

**Two Years Later**

* * *

The first thing I'm aware of is the hot, dry air blowing in through the open window. It smells like dust and smoke. I try to let sleep reclaim me, but the soft click of the door opening and closing and the whisper of footsteps across the floor pull me more fully into wakefulness. The old bed springs groan as Tobias sits down on the edge, leans over and quietly says, "Tris, wake up," in deference to the early hour.

His lips are feather light against my skin, and somehow, sleepily, I loop an arm around his neck and pull him closer. "Give me a reason to," I breathe out.

I feel more than hear his answering chuckle. "That sounds a lot like a reason to stay in bed."

"It is."

"Later," he promises, tracing his fingers along my spine in a way that makes me shiver.

The bed dips again and this time there's a cold, wet dog nose pressing insistently between us, and the solid  _thump thump thump_  of a tail smacking against the wall the bed is pressed up against.

"Morning, Dany," I yawn as Tobias pulls away, laughing for real this time. She rests her head on my chest, gazing up at me with her heterochromatic eyes - one blue, the other a bright topazy brown. Her tongue flicks out to lick at whatever part of me she can reach. She only stops when her affectionate assault finishes the job of waking me up.

I sit up and scratch behind her ears with one hand and try to rub the haze out of my eyes with the other. "Did your boyfriend take you for a walk already?" I ask her like she can answer.

"Yeah," Tobias answers absently, rifling through his duffle bag for something or other. "That brush fire is getting closer to town." We were ten miles outside of Austin when we saw the flames lighting up the night sky. It had been beautiful and terrifying and unstoppable, laying waste to everything in it's path, whipped by harsh winds and nothing mere human hands could quell.

The floor is gritty against my bare feet when I swing them off the bed, and I curl my toes against the dirtiness of it instinctively. It's not the worst place Tobias and I have stayed in, but the cheap boarding house doesn't look any better by sunlight than it did by lamplight when we practically fell into bed, exhausted, last night. The paint on on the walls has faded and chipped and peeled into nonexistence. The bed is lumpy and old and the sheets are scratchy, but at least it has it's own bathroom.

The clothes I fell asleep in - a thin camisole and a pair of panties - stick to me unpleasantly with sweat when I stand and stretch. Texas, apparently, doesn't get any cooler when the sun goes down.

"That's mine," Tobias says when I snake one of the well-worn black t-shirts out of his bag.

"I know," I reply with a smirk and slip into the bathroom.

I can't helping breathing a sigh of relief when I close the door and flick on the light and there isn't a single cockroach in sight. Last spring, on our way to Denver - the farthest west you can go -, we got stranded by car troubles in some no-name town in Kansas and the only room we could find was in a place I'm still convinced did double duty as a 'house of ill repute'. But that didn't bother me nearly as much as the  _sea_  of cockroaches that scattered when I turned on the bathroom light.

This time the worst I have to contend with is low pressure and water that doesn't get any warmer than tepid. It's nothing like the luxurious bathroom we used to have in our apartment in the Pire, but it temporarily cools my flushed, sweaty body, so I'll take it.

Tobias is just making sure we haven't accidentally left anything behind when I step out of the bathroom, his shirt hanging almost to the hem the jeans I cut into shorts when the gaps at the knees got too big. Before I transferred to Dauntless I would never have worn anything that left most of my thighs exposed, but I don't even think about it now.

I slip on my sneakers, Tobias grabs our bags, and Dany follows us out as we make our way downstairs to have breakfast.

xxxx

The fronds of the palm trees crash against each other ominously in the strong breeze, but under the large patio attached to the outdoor kitchen it's not unpleasant. The sun has barely cleared the horizon, so it hasn't gotten a chance to reach triple digit temperatures yet. The food is simple: eggs over easy, an orange, and a square of corn bread with a sliver of butter melting across the top for each of us.

Tobias eats in fits and starts; shoveling food into his mouth a few bites at a time and then seemingly forgetting it as he stares off into space for a minute, and then starting the process all over again.

"Nervous?" I question, peeling the rind off my orange and feeding Dany a wedge. Once she realizes I'm the person most likely to slip her table scraps this morning I have her undivided attention, at least.

Tobias just shrugs and bursts the yolk on his egg.

I reach out and gently twist his wedding ring around his finger, reminding him. He sighs and lets his other hand drop onto the table where he had been reaching for the pepper shaker.

"I haven't seen him for two years, and things are just… different now," he huffs. "They've got a kid now; a family,  _a life_  that I don't know how to relate to."

I choose to ignore his comment about family because we have one - it might just be me, him, and the dog, but we have one - and focus on everything else.

"He's still Zeke, Tobias. He's still probably going to tackle you, and tell bad jokes, and get you drunk,  _family_  or not. Besides, he wants us to come. He wants to see you as much as you want to see him."

His lips curl up in a half-hearted, uncertain smile and he squeezes my hand briefly before turning back to his breakfast. I let the subject drop.

* * *

We're three hours into our drive when I get my first glimpse of the Gulf of Mexico. I've seen the Atlantic before, stormy and slate colored and beating against the massive sea walls that protect the metropolitan sprawl of the east coast. This is nothing like that. There's a wide strip of fine, sugary looking sand and the water curling and crashing in elegant waves is crystalline blue. It's not until a mile or two out that it fades to the same deep blue as Tobias' eyes.

I know somewhere out there, hidden under leagues of water are cities that were swallowed up by the rising sea decades - almost a century -, ago. I don't know the names of the cities, if they were small or large, if the water crept up, each lap bringing it just a little bit closer, or if it was all one great flood like in the Bible stories I read as a child. I don't know if there are bodies buried in it's depths, or just buildings.

I lose sight of it briefly, the highway cutting away from the coast as we pass a much abused sign declaring that we're entering Louisiana. It seems to silly to me, drawing lines across the land. In the two years since we left Chicago and started bouncing across the country from city to city and state to state I haven't met anyone so vastly different from us that there needed to be arbitrary boundaries between us.

Maybe before, when the United States was founded, when there was personal and political gain to be had, they mattered. But after too many years of genetic experiments, too many years of rebellions or revolutions depending on which side you were on, they matter less.

The frightening thing though, I suppose, is that it could all happen again. Until that day when the convoy rolled up to the Pire we knew nothing of the world around us, protected by a meager fence and our own ignorance. We didn't know that the Bureau of Genetic Welfare had tinkered with our DNA, didn't know they penned us into cities to try and fix the damage they caused when they tried to perfect our species.

Disgust and anger were the only things most of us felt when we learned the Bureau had provided Jeanine with the simulation serum that left so many of our friends and loved one dead. But it quickly, if briefly, kindled into rage and hate when we were told that, as Tobias and I surmised, there was a plan to erase our memories in a desperate attempt to 'reset' their experiment and try again.

But the Bureau was fighting it's own war, both from within and without. It was the overwhelming force of their failure to provide positive results from any of their test cities - because we weren't the only ones, just the only ones who used the Faction system - to the Department of Homeland Security which funded them, and consistent attacks by rebel forces that was their final undoing.

The day that George and Amar and a coterie of higher ranking government officials than the ones who had played us as unwitting pawns opened the fence, we got our freedom.

Some of us got more that day. Tori got her brother back. Tobias got his friend. I got the truth about my mother. None of it was enough to keep Tobias and I in Chicago.

We could have stayed, had a place in shaping what our city would be now that we knew the truth, but for the first time we took a chance on ourselves, a real one. Not one motivated by blood or faction or survival. It was more than that too. It was leaving a place where we'd been deceived by friends, by family, by people we never even knew. It was a place of pain and loss and confusion, and we needed to get away from that; we needed to be selfish for a little while.

So, we left. A week after we learned the truth we packed our clothes, a few cherished personal possessions, and drove out the gate with no plan or destination, just an old, tattered map, a full tank of gas, and each other. It was exciting and terrifying in equal measure, and one of the happiest moments we've ever shared. We drove east until the sun went down behind us, my body pressed up against Tobias' side on the bench seat of the truck, one of his arms around my shoulders.

Now, there's a dog between us. She perks up as Tobias slows down, the Gulf coming into view again.

"Feel like going for a swim?"

"Might as well," I say, smiling.

It takes us a while to find a road that will bring us to the ocean, and when we do it's an unpaved, winding thing that twists through hip-high sea grass, serpentine. But the reward is that we have a long crescent shaped beach all to ourselves. We don't drive out onto it, wary of being stuck in the sand and miles from help. The dog bounds out as soon as we open the door, as eager to stretch her legs as we are, ours.

As comfortable as I am wearing shorts, I'm not entirely okay with stipping down to my bare skin no matter how alone we seem to be. I'm even a little hesitant being only in my underclothes, but Tobias doesn't give me a chance to dwell on it, scooping me up and swinging me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

I shriek and he laughs and before I know it he's knee-deep in salt water and setting me down. I'd scold him, but he cuts off any protest with his lips on mine. His arms are still wrapped tightly around me, and he walks us backwards, further into the surf. Despite the heat of the day, the cool of the water makes goosebumps erupt across my skin.

For a long time we cling to each other, the sound of wind and waves in our ears, breathing in the scent of salt water and seaweed and warm skin, kissing. In the three years since I met him we've kissed in a hundred different ways, a thousand different times, but each kiss is always special, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of the feel of Tobias' lips on mine.

The thought that I could lose him, lose the memories that make us, us is just as horrifying now as it was the day Tobias asked me to marry him because there are still some powerful people in this dysfunctional, ineffective government that think the Bureau of Genetic Welfare was on the right track, no matter the mountain of evidence to the contrary.

* * *

By late afternoon we turn away from the coast and head inland, towards Zeke and Shauna's house. Louisiana, we soon discover, is hot and wet and green. They're twenty miles from the ocean, but for a while as we drive we catch sight of side roads that disappear into water, the tall tops of buildings standing sentinel in the middle of lakes and ponds, all a testament to the former inhabitants.

But the longer we drive the more the water seems like a wild thing tamed, as much as it can be here, in the bayou. We see more cars and trucks on the road, more homes painted and maintained by it's sides. Like nearly every other city we've been in - large or small - Opelousas, Louisiana seems to outsize it's population, but I guess decades of war will have that effect.

Unfortunately the combination of Zeke's convoluted directions and a few poorly marked streets means that Tobias and I spend nearly forty-five minutes zig-zagging through the outskirts of town before we finally light upon the right road. But what really lets us know that we've reached our destination is the massive bowl planted among flowering plants at the end of the long drive. It's made of copper greened with time, but the size and shape is identical to the bowls that held coals and stones and glass on Choosing Day, though this one holds water and more plants, and, incongruously, a rubber duck. I can't help laughing when I catch sight of it.

There's a long brick path leading up to a house that we can only see parts of through the canopy of live oaks dripping with spanish moss.

"Are you ready?" I ask Tobias, a little worried he's going to chew a hole in his lip what with the way he keeps gnawing on it.

He takes a deep breath, and says, "Yeah," resolutely.

We're barely out of the truck before a booming voice calls out, "I thought you guys got lost!"

And that's all it takes for the tension to leave Tobias' shoulders. "We did," he calls back. "Your directions suck!"

"Oh, fuck you," Zeke chortles, jogging down the path and into view. He doesn't give Tobias a chance to reply before wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. There's a lot of masculine back-slapping, but under that I can tell they're teetering between laughter and tears, the weight of two years absence making both of them unsteady.

He grabs Tobias' face, twisting it this way and that, inspecting him for any signs of change the way an older brother would a younger. "Look at you, all tan and happy," he teases before turning to me. "You're doing a good job with this one," he says approvingly, and releases Tobias to hug me instead.

"It's in my job description," I eek out, thoroughly eclipsed by Zeke's big, broad chest and having the air squeezed out of me by his strong arms.

Thankfully Dany starts nosing at his legs and diverts his attention. "You got a dog?" he scoffs, leaning down to pet her. "That's weak man. I got a kid," he says proudly.

"What did you do? Steal one?"

"No, but it did involve some Crisco, a hair scrunchie, and me on all fours, barking like a dog. Oh and a basket of apology muffins to the neighbors because Shauna's a screamer," he adds as an afterthought.

"I am not, and you  _are_  a dog," Shauna declares, rolling into view.

Zeke grins like it's the best compliment ever.

* * *

I sigh contentedly at the feel of Tobias sweeping my hair over one shoulder. It's grown long again and when he wants to kiss my neck he has to move it out of the way. His hands sneak under the hem of my shirt, framing my hips. He's close enough that I can feel his body heat resonating against my back, but not so close that I'm trapped against the railing of the wide veranda.

"What do you think?" I murmur.

"We've been here an hour, I don't think anything, yet."

Zeke said we could stay here as long as we wanted, days or weeks or months are fine by him, though we haven't committed to anything one way or another.

"Do you like it better than Denver?" I press.

He makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but I know him. Zeke's invitation might have been providential, but even if it hadn't come when it did we would have left Denver for someplace warmer, someplace winter isn't cold and desolate and lifeless sooner rather than later.

But this place… I don't know what I was expecting Zeke and Shauna's home to look like. Maybe something more Dauntless, all strong steel and cold glass, but my first impression was that we took a wrong turning somewhere and ended up in Amity. There's green everywhere. In the lush grass that tickled between my toes when I kicked off my shoes. In the dense, jungle-like growth of the bayou that creeps up to the edge of the property where Zeke hasn't fought it back with sharp blades. It's in the air too, and I tip forward on my toes, deeply breathe in the scent of old oak and rich earth and sultry flowers.

"I like it here," I say, decided.

Tobias doesn't say anything, but I feel his lips turn up in a smile against my skin.

It could be good here, for a while; certainly better than aimless wandering we've been doing has been at times. And, for however long we decide to stay, we have our own little cottage, connected to Zeke and Shauna's house by a breezeway, but separate enough that we won't be imposing on them; neither constantly under foot, nor tripping over a toddler.

Like the main house it's made of ancient wood. Cedar or cypress, Zeke isn't sure, just that it's an extinct species that resists rot, and has done for the nearly three hundred years these buildings have been standing. The inside walls are covered with a soft, crackling daub made of a mud and spanish moss that's turned white with time. There's a kitchenette, a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It's not much, but it's more than we need, and we've lived in less. Here, at least, I feel like I can breathe.

I can't tell how close their nearest neighbors are because all I hear are the sounds of frogs and water birds, and all I see from the veranda at the back of the cottage are the groves of trees that insulate us from the outside world. It's quiet and peaceful, a wonder and a treasure, but what makes it special is how it feels. They say home is the place that when you have to go there, they have to take you in. And that's what it feels like: home. A port in the storm. Safety. Family. It's only now that I realize how much I've missed that.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Tobias says, cutting across my thoughts. "Zeke is cooking. That should be… interesting."

"He can't be any worse than you," I tease.

"I can cook just fine," he says haughtily.

"You're not bad when you actually use pots and pans, but you ruined the coffee pot trying to cook rice in it. For reasons I still can't figure out."

"Seemed like an ideal solution. You have to cook it for a long time and-," he starts explaining, but cuts off abruptly when he catches sight of my smirk. "Why did I marry you, again?"

"That's not a nice thing to say to me."

"I'm not a nice person, remember?"

"Neither am I.  _That's_  why you married me. And because I love you," I add with a kiss to his cheek to soothe away the little bruise to his ego.

A moment later we hear Zeke hollering for us and walk through the guest out and out into the backyard, Dany at our heels. Zeke is standing over a large steel drum that's been fashioned into a barbecue, spatula in one hand, baby daughter held in the other. She's only a year old, barely started walking and talking, and she watches us with wide, hazel eyes as we approach.

"This is Lynnette. The Little Lion," he beams. She starts fussing in his arms, leaning away and making grabby hands for the dog when she catches sight of it. Obligingly, her father sets her down on her feet, but she pitches forward, falling onto her hands. It doesn't seem to phase her. She starts pushing herself back up immediately, even with Dany sniffing at her, curious or cautious I'm not sure which.

I hold my breath as Lynnette uses the dog to hoist herself up, but all Dany does is stand there patiently, her tail swinging back and forth in a lazy metronome. Once she's upright Lynnette seems fascinated by Dany's short, sleek gray coat, and when it's obvious that everything is going to be okay I excuse myself to help Shauna, wherever she is. Besides, Tobias and Zeke need time together, just them.

I cross the lawn and walk up the short brick ramp into the kitchen to find her at a heavy wooden table, polished smooth by innumerable years of use. "Can I help with anything?"

"Sure," she says, though her eyes are uncertain. She pushes a bowl of boiled potatoes towards me and a small paring knife. "Cut those into cubes for the salad."

We work in silence, me cubing the potatoes, and her slicing a bunch of small tomatoes into wedges. Shauna has never been warm and inviting, at least towards me, but I never had the chance to get to know her either, and of course once she found out I was Divergent… well.

But we're guests here, so I make an effort. "Your house is really nice," I say awkwardly.

"Thank you," is her answer. It's not terse. It's not anything. It's just an answer.

"Did you and Zeke come here from Chicago, or did you travel for a while first?"

"Right from Chicago. I wanted to see the ocean, so we drove south until we hit water, basically. And we both liked it here, and I then found out I was pregnant so we just stayed." Once she finishes with the tomatoes she reaches for a cucumber, slicing it into thin slivers before adding it to the same bowl. "You and Four have traveled a lot though?" she eventually asks.

"Yeah."

"Anywhere in particular?"

I guess I'm not the only one trying to be polite. "Not really. Usually we drive until we find some place we like, find jobs doing whatever and save up some money before we move on to the next place."

"And that makes you happy?"

"It doesn't make me sad," I say, more annoyed than I mean to. "It's nice, having the freedom to go where we want, when we want," I add, my voice softer. "We're enjoying that."

"Do you think you'll ever go back?"

"Eventually," I shrug. "What about you? Do you think you'll ever go back?"

She looks out the window, contemplatively watching Zeke and Lynnette and Tobias on the other side of the glass. "If you asked Zeke, he'd say no in a heartbeat. But I don't know if that's the truth. He's happy here - we all are -, but he's lonely too. It's hard for him to be away from Uriah and his mother, from all our friends. He needs people."

"He's always seemed that way to me."

"It's not a fault or a flaw," she amends sharply, as if I was suggesting otherwise. "He's just a people person, and for him to be away from the people he loves, it's hard. And making them laugh, making them happy, is how he shows he cares. He can't do that from a thousand miles away."

"They don't visit?" I ask timidly. I know Uriah hasn't because we keep in touch, but I don't know about anyone else.

"My mom and brother do. They were here for a few weeks this summer, and Zeke's mother came for a while after the baby was born. But it's not the same, you know?"

I nod because I do. And today I'm feeling it more acutely than I have in a long time.

"What's the deal with the dog?" Shauna asks, momentarily diverting me from my thoughts.

"Oh, um, we were in Pittsburgh about a year ago, and where we were staying, we used to go up this alley to make the walk quicker," I says, my hands cutting lines in the air like I'm drawing the scene. "And we heard whimpering coming from a dumpster. Someone had thrown her in there, - thrown her away -, beaten, starved, and terrified. She was skin and bones, and covered in blood and dirt.

Tobias… I've never seen him that angry. He climbed in and scooped her up and carried her back to our apartment. We had no idea what we were doing, but we cleaned her up, fed her bites of our dinner just to get some food in her…," I trail off, swept away by the memory of Tobias crouching over her in our bathtub, washing her with gentle fingers.

The whole time he worked he kept whispering to her she was safe, that we weren't going to hurt her, that everything was going to be okay, like a mantra. She was so weak and scared he carried her out and made a nest of blankets and towels for her next to our bed and we sat on the floor with her, offering her tiny bites of our chicken and potatoes. She was too wary to take them from our fingers, but would tentatively, gratefully, lick them up if we set them down by her mouth.

Tobias slept on the side of the bed nearest her, his hand gently resting on her, not that either of us got much sleep. We'd offer her water or milk nearly every hour, offer her more chicken if she seemed interested, and always if we had to check her wounds. But a lot of times we'd just check her to make sure she was still breathing.

"Anyway," I say, coming back to myself. "We've had her ever since. Getting her body healthy again was easy, well,  _easier_. For months if she heard loud noises she'd cower and shake. She didn't know how to play, and for a long time if we tried to get her to she'd get scared again."

"Makes sense," is all Shauna says, and I don't know if she's talking about the dog or Tobias.

xxxx

Dinner is a lively affair, outside, under the stars with moths as big as butterflies swooping around us. Of course it has just as much to do with Zeke cracking jokes and spiking our lemonade with something out of brown bottle that makes me feel warm and tingly.

"So, hurricanes suck," he announces after trying to top off my glass with more alcohol, only to be thwarted by a sharp smack to his wrist. "They used to give them names so you'd never forget them; called them 'she' so you'd never forget how cruel a woman can be."

"Why are you looking at me?" I demand.

"No reason," he shrugs, the picture of innocence, at least until a smile cracks across his face and he starts howling with laughter. I smack Tobias too when he joins in. "No, but they really do," he says, composing himself. "Everything floods, and your roof goes flying off and you've got to worry about, I dunno, alligators swimming into fucking your house, and it just blows. But I figure you're going to have natural disasters anywhere, so you pick your poison."

Tobias nods in agreement, tearing into a portion of spareribs. "Yeah, tornado's are pretty shitty too. I don't even remember where we were-"

"Indiana?" I offer.

"Yeah, maybe. But anyway, all of the sudden these sirens went off and people just started running. Tris and I had no idea what was going on. I almost punched the guy who was trying to push us into the storm shelter, but then you could hear it coming," he shudders. "I'll never forget that, the sound it made. It was terrifying."

The conversation ricochets around to random topics for a while after that. When we finish eating Lynnette - or 'Lynnie' as Zeke and Shauna call her -, climbs down from her mother's lap and chases Dany around the yard. Every time she falls Dany stops trotting along and goes back to check on her, nosing her worriedly until she stands again and the game starts over. When Lynnie gets tired of that she boldly climbs up into Tobias' lap, frames his cheeks with both of her little hands and purses her lips like she's trying to figure him out.

By the time Tobias and Zeke and Shauna start reminiscing about their initiation Tobias has an arm curled around her protectively and is lulling her to sleep with the gentle bounce of his leg. I draw my knees up to my chest, watching them relive memories of a history I have no part of. It makes me think about my own initiation. It makes me think about Will and Al, Lynn and Marlene.

Those are dangerous thoughts though. We should remember the dead, and honor them, keep them alive by telling their stories, even, but living in the past robs you of life. It's a lesson I had to learn the hard way. It's one Uriah hasn't learned yet. I know the reason he hasn't come to visit is because he won't leave Chicago. Not for his brother, not for anything, because it's the place he loved Marlene. It's the last link he has to her and he's holding on tight. If something had happened to Tobias I probably would have done the same. I would have made myself useful, sure, but it wouldn't really have been living, just extended mourning, staying there for a ghost no matter what else I accomplished.

And sitting here, watching Tobias among his friends makes me miss Uriah and Christina. I miss my friends because even though Tobias and I have been friendly with people we've met over the last few years, we haven't made any friends like that since we left Chicago. And now it's like I have a spot in my heart for them, a spot that I've chosen to leave empty until they can fill it again. And even though it's my choice it makes me sad.

When Shauna announces that she's putting Lynnette to bed I use it as an excuse to leave as well. It's been a long a day and I'm tired, but mostly I leave because I'm feeling melancholy; the alcohol mixing unpleasantly with my thoughts. Dany follows me back into the guest cottage, her head lifting up into my palm as we walk like it always does when she senses Tobias and I feeling down. I slip off my shorts and barely have the energy to clean up before slipping into bed, but I do.

As soon as I'm settled Dany jumps up and lays against the length of my body. It's not the first time I've missed my friends and our old life, not even the first time a few tears have wet my cheeks because of it like they do now. And it's right that I should miss them, so I let the tears fall, but I let Dany buoy me too, with her warm weight and steady breaths, and eventually I find sleep and pleasant dreams.

I don't think I sleep for more than a few hours though because the moon is still full and bright and hanging heavily in the sky; I can see Tobias moving around the bedroom almost as clearly as if the sun were shining.

"Sorry," he whispers when he notices I'm awake now too.

"It's okay," I mumble.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, one hand braced on the other side of me to hold himself up. " _Are_  you okay? You looked a little… lost," he finally decides, "when you left."

"Just missing Christina and Uriah," I tell him honestly.

He reaches out with his free hand, tracing the same tracks my tears took early with cool fingertips. I lean into his touch.

"Do you want to go back, Tris?" He's asking me so much more than those six little words make it seem like.

"No," I say, kissing the fleshy base of his thumb. "I miss Chris and Uri, but I feel like if we go back now we won't ever leave again no matter what we tell ourselves, and I'm not ready for that yet."

He stares out the wall of windows for a moment, chewing on his lip. "What do you think of Lynnette?"

I reach up and use my fingers to tip his chin so that he has to look at me. And then I answer the question he really wants to ask because sometimes we're still not very good about talking to each other. "I still just need you, Tobias."

His lips are grateful when he leans down to kiss me, but his eyes are apprehensive. "You're sure?"

"Someday. When we go back... Someday."

And this time his kisses are fervent, needy. In a flurry of movement the dog is off the bed and he is on it. His weight presses me down into the soft mattress as he kisses me, and before long the gauzy sheet covering me is gone and so are his clothes and mine. His lips burn a trail down my body, his eyes locked on mine as his tongue takes it's first teasing lick between my legs. I try to watch him, to stay connected to him, but it's too much, seeing and feeling, and I close my eyes and arch into his mouth and he has to hold my hips down to keep me steady.

I still see him behind my eyes when I come, past and future and a hot, white light that burns through me. I can still see them like phosphene shadows in the room as he rears up onto his knees, spread wide, and drapes my thighs over his. He slides through the wetness pooled between my legs, hitting the little bundle of nerves that makes me forget my own name with each pass before slowly,  _so_  slowly, pushing inside.

"You taste like the beach," he murmurs against the underside of my jaw when he leans forward for a moment. I blush just like I did the day I ran into him at the Chasm and he told me I looked good. "No, don't be shy," he pleads and kisses me again. His lips tastes like sun and salt and me, and I clench around him; at the taste, at his words, at how much I like all of it.

I try to hold him to me when he pulls back, but he gently disentangles himself with more kisses and whispered words and soon the swirl of his hips has me begging him for more. But he doesn't give it to me. He starts a slow, steady pace, using his arms to slide me up and down the length of him, and I want to complain, but it feels so good and I'm so close that all I can do is push up on my toes and try to help him and try to find the breath to beg him not to stop.

My fingers pluck at the tips of my breasts, doing the job he can't because his hands are occupied. And it feels so good, but it's not  _enough_ , and I groan in need and pleasure because I'm torn between never wanting this torment to stop and knowing, unbelievably, that it can get better.

"Please, Tobias," I beg him. "Please, please,  _please_." The way he says my name in answer makes me clench around him again, but, mercifully, he gives in to me. He moves quicker, starts thrusting up as he pulls me down and every time he does he hits a spot somewhere deep inside of me that makes my want to scream. My hands fly to my mouth to muffle them.

Every muscle in my body is pulled taut, ready to snap, but still it doesn't happen. I want to complain. I want to be frustrated. But somehow Tobias is drawing the pleasure out, making me feel the waves of euphoria I usually only feel when I climax without pushing me over the edge. And it makes me forget everything. Everything, but him. And all I want is more.

My eyes slit open and I catch sight of him. His eyes are filled with heat and want and love, but every now and then he grimaces and his eyes squeeze closed and I know it feels just as good for him, but he's drawing it out for me. And it makes me insensible how much I love him too, how good it feels.

I reach out for him, needing him closer, needing him here with me. I grasp his arm, sweaty and slick under my hand and pull him closer with the last bit of strength I have. And for one blissful second I feel him; feel every hard inch of him inside of me, every dip and curve of muscle against me, every breath, every heartbeat. And then that last tether holding me to the ground snaps and I'm flying, soaring and spinning like the birds that gracefully swoop across my collarbone, and barely aware of the cries and screams that Tobias is muffling with his lips on mine again.

I feel him twitch and spill inside of me, hot and thick, before he collapses. "I love you," he babbles against my breasts. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he says over and over again like I could ever forget.

Neither of us tries to move, too content wrapped in each others arms, my legs around him, our bodies still one. His hair is wet with sweat when I card my fingers through it, and he nuzzles against my neck affectionately.

"Someday," I say again, a whispered promise in his ear. Someday we'll go back to Chicago. Or maybe not. Maybe we'll stay here. Maybe we'll go someplace else. Make a home there, and I'll stop taking the little pills that keep me barren. But for now this is enough. And it never won't be enough, but it could always be more.


End file.
